BANCROFT 
LIBRARY 

THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


THE    WAR-TRAIL; 


OB, 


THE  HUNT  OF  THE  ¥ILD  HORSE. 


of  %  Jrairit. 


BY    CAPTAIN    MAYNE   EEID, 

AUTHOR  OF  THE  "HUNTER'S  FEAST,"   "  SCALP  HUNTERS,"   "  BIFJUB  RANGERS,"   "QUADBOO*," 

AND  "THE  WHITE  CHIEF." 


Beautifully  Illustrated  with  Original  Designs  Engraved  by  N.  Orr 


NEW    YORK: 
ROBERT    M.  DE  WITT,    PUBLISHER, 

13  FRANKFORT  STREET. 


3 


ferniiD  according  to  Act  of  CoogKM,  in  the  year  1857,  by 
ROBERT    M.    DE   WITT, 

fe  tie  Clerk'*  Oftce  of  the  Pietrict  Court  of  the  United  Slates,  for  the  Southern  Digtrict  of  New  York. 


TKF  Publisher  begs  to  inform  the  Trade  and  the  Public,  that  portions  of  this  work  art 
now  first  printed— not  having  been  published  in  England.  This  is  done  by  expres» 
arrangement  with  the  author,  in  order  to  protect  the  inviolability  of  the  Copyright  in 
this  country,  as  the  advance  sheets  have  been  secured  for  the  American  house  at  con- 
liderable  expense. 


6 
Bancroft  Library 


PUBLISHER'S    PREFACE. 


IN  presenting  to  the  American  Public  another  volume  of  these 
half-wild,  half-civilized,  half-hunter,  half-military  adventures,  which 
the  author  relates  in  a  style  so  peculiarly  his  own,  it  is  scarcely 
necessary  to  urge  any  argument  in  its  favor.  MATNE  REID  is  so  well 
known  and  so  generally  appreciated,  that  his  books  possess  the 
entree  into  every  circle — the  public  library,  the  bachelor's  sanctum, 
the  hunter's  cabin  and  the  lady's  boudoir — all  gratefully  extend  to 
the  redoubtable  Captain  a  welcome,  as  warm  as  it  is  sincere. 

There  is  a  charm  pervading  these  books  which  is  to  be  found  in 
few  others — and  it  lies  in  that  off-hand,  dashing  style  with  which 
the  author  carries  his  reader  along  with  him,  through  all  sorts  of 
perils,  verging  on  the  very  brink  of  destruction,  but  invariably,  by 
some  happy  chance,  landing  him  safe  on  terra  firma.  Of  course, 
this  is  easily  effected  in  a  novel,  and  is  what  every  writer  aims  at ; 
but,  with  most  of  them,  the  reader  can  never  lose  sight  of  the  fact 
that  he  is  reading,  while  in  Mayne  Reid's  books  the  narration  is  so 
blended  with  the  action  that  we  lose  our  identity,  as  it  were,  and  all 
our  faculties  are  absorbed  by  the  scene  before  us,  until  we  feel  as 
if  we  ourselves  were  the  participants  in  the  fight  or  foray  he  h 
describing. 


iv  PUBLISHER'S  PREFACE. 

The  "WAB-TKAIL"  has  been  pronounced,  by  good  judges,  to  be 
the  best  of  the  series,  which  is  no  small  praise  when  we  refer 
to  the  encomiums  which  the  American  press  bestowed  upon  the 
"Scalp  Hunters,"  "Eifle  Bangers,"  "White  Chief,"  &c.,  awarding 
to  them  a  high  position  among  works  eminently  instructive  and 
deeply  interesting. 

We  congratulate  the  author  upon  the  success  he  has  achieved,  and 
have  no  doubt  an  appreciative  public  will  cordially  welcome  this 
his  last  production. 


THE  PTTBLISI  «> 
YORK,  June  10. 


CONTENTS. 


I SOUVENIRS,         .          •     .    • 9 

II.— A  MEXICAN  FRONTIER  VILLAGE, ,      .2 

-    — THE  RANGERS  ON  PICKET,  .          . 16 

IV. — MAKING  A  CAPTIVE,  . 23 

V. — MY  CAPTIVE,      .          •••••.».          .          .          .          .28 

VI. — ISOLINA  DE  VARGAS,          » .        V 32 

VII. — AN  ORDER  TO  FORAGE,      »         •          .          .          .          .          .          .          .41 

vm. — SON  RAMON,     .       •       •       . 49 

ix. — "UN  PAPELCITO,"    .       *       » 63 

X.— AN  OLD  ENMITY,         •    .    '  *    . 59 

XI. — RAFAEL  LRJRRA,         . 65 

XII. — THE  YELLOW  DOMINO, 73 

XIII. — THE  BLUE  DOMINO,    .          .          •          •          •''  •-;    .          .          f          .          .78 
XIV. — LOVE-THOUGHTS,         .          •          .          •  t  .  .          .          .      87 

XV. — AN  ODD  EPISTLE,        .          %    -     * .91 

XVI. — THE  MANADA,     .«««,*.          .  ...  .96 

XVII THE  HUNT  OF  THE  WILD  HORSE, 102 

XVIII. — THE  PHANTOM  HORSE,        »          «,          »f 105 

XIX. — A  PRAIRIE  DREAM,     .          »•».«.. Ill 

XX. — LOST  UPON  THE  PRAIRIE, 115 

XXI. — A  PRAIRIE  REPAST, '  .  .  .  .   119 

XXII. — CHASED  BY  A   "GRIZZLY,"        *  ~ ,    , 123 

XXIII.— THE  TOUGHEST  STRUGGLE  OF  MY  LIFE,    ...  .   130 

XXIV. — OLD  COMRADES,  .*».„. 134 

XXV. — A  QUEER  CONVERSATION,  ,          *          .          *  ...   139 

XXVI.— VOWS  OF  VENGEANCE,        ..........   145 

xxvii. — A  "WEED"  PRAIRIE  ON  FIRE,        .  151 

XXVni.— RUBE  ROASTED  ALIVE,       .  .          .          .          .  .          .  .          .159 

XXIX.— THE  MESA, .166 


VI  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTEB         .'  PAUH 

XXX — GUERBtLLEROS,         .  •     •     .. 172 

XXXI.— THE  PARLEY, •       .  .  .    17* 

XXXII. — A  DEAD  SHOT, 181 

XXXIII. — A  RUNNING-SHOT, 186 

xxxiv. — RUBE'S  CHARGER, 193 

XXXV. — EL  ZORRO, 198 

XXXVI. — A  PLAN  OF  ESCAPE, 202 

XXXVII. — ELIJAH  QUACKENBOSS,     .  .          .          .        >  ...   206 

XXXVIII.— THE  TRAP  EMPTY, 210 

XXXIX. — SCALING  THE  CLIFF, .   215 

XL. — A  REINFORCEMENT,  .    •      .  .          .          .          .          •     '    V     "  .   222 

XLI. — THE   INDIAN   SPY,     .  .  ,          •          •          •          •          •          •    226 

XLII. — THE  CABALLADA,      .  .  i          .          .          .          » ""   '   .          .   229 

XLIII. — A  CHAPTER  OF  EXPLANATIONS, 234 

XLIV. — DUTCH  LIGE  IN  A  DIFFICULTY, 241 

XLV. — A  LOVER  ON  THE  TRAIL,          ...          .          .          .  .  .   245 

XLVI. — A  DECLARATION   ON   HORSEBACK, 253 

XLVII. — STRAYED  FROM  THE  TRACK, 259 

XL VIII. — AN  ADIOS,         .  .          •         .,.         » 266 

XLLX.— THREATS,  .          .          *    ^    f 270 

L. — AWKWARD  ODDS,      ...          . 276 

LI. — AN  OFFICIAL  BLACK  LIST,       ........   282 

LII.— THE  ROUTE, 287 

LIU.— CAMP  GOSSIP, 292 

LIV. — THE  RUINED  RANCHO, 298 

LV. — A  CRUEL  PROSCRIPTION, 302 

LVI. — THE  BIVOUAC   OF  THE  GUERRILLA, 307 

LVII. — TAKING  THE  TRAIL, '!«•'      •        %'          .    312 

&YIII. — THE  VOYAGEUR, ^.    :,>.v.,v.^,        .317 

LIX. — TRAILING  BY  TORCH-LIGHT,    ,          .  .          .          .         '.  .       .          .   320 

LX. — THE  SOMBRERO, V       '•          .          .   324 

LXI. — THE  TRAIL   RECOVERED, •'     '    •          .   327 

LXII. — WOLVES  ON  THE  TRACK,  .          •          .          .  .        "  •     '   -i          .   332 

LXIII.— ACROSS  THE  TORRENT, •          .          .335 

LXIV. — A   LILLIPUTIAN  FOREST, 340 

LXV. — SCATTERING  THE  WILD  STALLIONS, 344 

LXVI. — LOST  IN  A  CHAPARRAL,  .  .  .  .      '    .          .          .  .   349 

LXVII. — ENCOUNTER  WITH  JAVALI, 352 

IXVIII. — THE  WOODS  ON  FIRE, 356 

LXIX. — SMOKE  AND  THIRST, '•          .          .   369 

LXX. — A  BURNT  PRAIRIE, .   364 

LXXI.— THE  TALK  OF  THE  TRACKERS,           ....         '«'         .          .367 
LXXII.— "  INJUN  SIGN," ,,          .  372 


CONTENTS.  Vll 

CHAPTER  FAQS 

LXXIH TRANSLATING  THE  "SIGN," 376 

LXXIV. — THE  STEED  LAZOED, 379 

LXXV. — THE   "INDIOS  BRAVOS," 382 

LXXVI. — ON  THE  WAR-TRAIL,       .          ».*•          .  •          •  •  •   387 

LXXVII. — THE  "WRITING  ON  THE  MAOUEY, 391 

LXXVIII. — THE  SOUTHERN  SAVAGE, 395 

LXXIX. — A  SUBTERRANEAN  FIRB,            ....»«..   398 
LXXX.— A  RED  EPISTLE,       .          .          i 403 

LXXXI. — MORE  WRITING  IN  RED,        , .-  /'  ^ 407 

T.TTTTT. — AN  INJUN  ON  THE  BACK  TRACK, 411 

LXXXIII. — CAPTURING  A  COMANCHE,     . 416 

LXXXIV. — "PAINTING  INJUN,"     .       •       ? 419 

LXXXV. — THE  LAST  HOURS  ON  THE  TRAIL, 424 

L  XXXVI.— THE  COMANCHE  CAMP,    .          .  .-,_,,.          .  .  427 

LXXXVII.— NO  COVER,      .          .  •        .      .    „         >,    -,>,,     .          .          .  .  -431 

LXXXVIII. — RUBE  CONSULTING  HIS  ORACLE, %          435 

LXXXIX. — THE  TRAPPER'S  COUNSEL, 439 

XC. — TAKING  TO  THE  WATER, 443 

XCI. — UP  STREAM, 447 

xcii. — COUP  D'CEIL  OF  THE  CAMP, 452 

XCIII. — A  FRIENDLY  ENCOUNTER,        ........    455 

XCIV.— SPY  IN  COUNCIL, 460 

XCV. — THE  COUNCIL   IN  SESSION, 463 

XCVI. — THE  RENEGADE  CLAIMS  HIS  CAPTIVES, 467 

XCVII. — SPEECHES  IN  COUNCIL, ,  470 

XCVIII.— A  ROUGH  COURTSHIP, 475 

ZOIX. — THE  CRISIS,  479 

C THE  LAST  GALLOP,  .  .......  485 

CJ  -CONCLUSION,  .  . ^ 


THE    WAE-TEAIL. 


CHAPTER    I. 

SOUVENIRS. 

LAND  of  the  nopal  and  maguey — home  of  Moctezuma  and 
Malinchd  ! — I  cannot  wring  thy  memories  from  my  heart  ! 
Years  may  roll  on,  hand  wax  weak,  and  heart  grow  old,  bat 
never  till  both  are  cold  can  I  forget  thee !  I  would  not ;  for  thee 
would  I  remember.  Not  for  all  the  world  would  I  bathe  my 
soul  in  the  waters  of  Lethe.  Blessed  be  memory  for  thy  sake  I 

Bright  land  of  Anahuac  !  my  spirit  mounts  upon  the  ae'rial 
wings  of  Fancy,  and  once  more  I  stand  upon  thy  shores!  Over 
thy  broad  savannahs  I  spur  my  noble  steed,  whose  joyous  neigh 
tells  that  he  too  is  inspired  by  the  scene.  I  rest  under  the 
shade  of  the  corozo  palm,  and  quaff  the  wine  of  the  acrocomia. 
I  climb  thy  mountains  of  amygdaloid  and  porphyry — thy  crags 
of  quartz,  that  yield  the  white  silver  and  the  yellow  gold.  I 
cross  the  fields  of  lava,  rugged  in  outline,  and  yet  more  rugged 
with  their  coverture  of  strange  vegetable  forms — the  cycas  and 
cactus,  yuccas  and  zamias.  I  traverse  thy  table-plains  through 
bristling  rows  of  giant  aloes,  whose  sparkling  juice  cheers  ms 
on  my  path.  I  stand  upon  the  limits  of  eternal  snow;  crushing 

1*  fl 


10  THE   WAE-TRAIL. 

the  Alpine  lichen  under  my  heel  ;  while  down  in  the  deep  bar 
ranca,  far  down  below,  I  behold  the  feathery  fronds  of  the  palm, 
the  wax-like  foliage  of  the  orange,  the  broad  shining  leaves  of 
the  pathos,  the  arums,  and  bananas!  O  that  I  could  look 
with  living  eye  on  these  bright  pictures!  But  even  palely  out 
lined  upon  the  retina  of  memory,  they  impart  a  soothing  plea 
sure  to  my  soul 

Land  of  Moctezuma!  I  have  other  souvenirs  of  thee,  more 
deeply  graven  on  my  memery  than  these  pictures  of  peace. 
Thou  recallest  scenes  of  war.  I  traversed  thy  fields  a  foeman 
— sword  in  hand — and  now,  after  years  gone  by,  many  a  wild 
scene  of  soldier-life  springs  up  before  me  with  all  the  vividness 
of  reality. 

The,  Bivouac,  I — I  sit  by  the  night  camp-fire  ;  around  are  war 
like  forms  and  bearded  faces.  The  blazing  log  reflects  the  sheen 
of  arms  and  accoutrements — saddles,  rifles,  pistols,  canteens, 
strewing  the  ground,  or  hanging  from  the  branches  of  adjacent 
trees.  Picketed  steeds  loom  large  in  the  darkness,  their  forms 
dimly  outlined  against  the  sombre  background  of  the  forest.  A 
solitary  palm  stands  near,  its  curving  fronds  looking  hoary 
under  the  fire-light.  The  same  light  gleams  upon  the  fluted 
columns  of  the  great  organ-cactus,  upon  agaves  and  bromelias, 
upon  the  silvery  tillandsia,  that  drapes  the  tall  trees  as  with  a 
toga. 

The  wild  tale  is  told — the  song  is  sung — the  jest  goes  round 
— the  hoarse  peal  echoes  through  the  aisles  of  the  forest,  fright 
ing  the  parrot  on  its  perch,  and  the  wolf  upon  his  prowl.  Little 
reck  they  who  sing,  and  jest,  and  laugh — little  reck  they  of  the 
morrow. 

******* 

The  Skirmish! — Morning  breaks.  The  fragrant  forest  is 
silent,  and  the  white  blue  light  is  just  tinging  the  tree-tops.  A 
shot  rings  upon  the  air:  it  is  the  warning-gun  of  the  picket- 
sentinel,  v>o  comes  galloping  in  upon  the  guard.  The  enemy 


SOUVENIRS.  11 

npproaches!  "  To  horse!"  the  bugle  thrills  in  clear  loud  notes 
Th'e  slumberers  spring  to  their  feet — they  seize  their  rifles, 
pistols,  and  sabres,  and  dash  through  the  smouldering  fires  till 
ashes  cloud  the  air.  The  steeds  snort  and  neigh  ;  in  a  trice 
they  are  saddled,  bridled,  and  mounted  ;  and  away  sweeps  the 
troop  along  the  forest  road. 

The  enemy  is  in  sight — a  band  of  guerillas,  in  all  their  pictu- 
resqueness  manga  and  scrape — of  scarlet,  purple,  and  gold. 
Lances,  with  shining  points  and  streaming  pennons,  overtop  the 
trees. 

The  bugle  sounds  the  charge  ;  its  notes  are  drowned  by  the 
charging  cheer.  We  meet  our  swarthy  foemen  face  to  face  ; 
spear-thrusts  are  answered  by  pistol-shots;  our  sabres  cross  and 
clink,  but  our  snorting  steeds  rear  back,  and  will  not  let  us  kill 
each  other.  We  wheel  and  meet  again,  with  deadlier  aim,  and 
more  determined  arm  ;  we  strike  without  remorse — we  strike 

for  freedom  1 

*  *  *  *  *  *  * 

The.  Battle-field  I — The  serried  columns  and  the  bristling  guns 
— the  roar  of  cannon  and  the  hoarse  roll  of  drums — the  bugle's 
wildest  notes,  the  cheer,  the  charge — the  struggle  hand  to  hand 
— the  falling  foeman  and  his  dying  groan — the  rout,  retreat,  the 
hoarse  huzza  for  victory !  I  well  remember,  but  I  cannot  paint 

them.  . 

******* 

Land  of  Anahuac!  thou  recallest  other  scenes,  far  different 
from  these — scenes  of  tender  love  or  stormy  passion.  The 
strife  is  o'er — the  war-drum  has  ceased  to  beat,  ancl  the  bugle 
to  bray ;  the  steed  stands  chafing  in  his  stall,  and  the  conqueror 
dallies  in  the  halls  of  the  conquered.  Love  is  now  the  victor, 
and  the  stern  soldier,  himself  subdued,  is  transformed  into  a 
suing  lover.  In  gilded  hall  or  garden  bower,  behold  him  on 
bended  knee,  whispering  his  soft  tale  in  the  ear  of  some  dark 
eyed  donfdla,  Andalusian,  or  Aztec! 

******* 


12  THE    WAB-TRAIL. 

Lovely  land!  I  have  sweet  memories  of  thee  ;  for  who  could 
traverse  thy  fields  without  beholding  some  fair  flower,  ever  after 
to  be  borne  upon  his  bosom.  And  yet,  not  all  my  souvenirs 
are  glad.  Pleasant  and  painful,  sweet  and  sad,  they  thrill  my 
heart  with  alternate  throes.  But  the  sad  emotions  have  been 
tempered  by  time,  and  the  glad  ones,  at  each  returning  tide, 
seem  tinged  with  brighter  glow.  In  thy  bowers,  as  elsewhere, 
roses  must  be  plucked  from  thorns  ;  but  in  memory's  mellowed 
light  I  see  not  the  thorns — I  behold  only  the  bright  and  beauti 
ful 


CHAPTER    II. 

A     MEXICAN     FRONTIER     VILLAGE. 

A  MEXICAN  pueblita  on  the  banks  of  the  Rio  Bravo  del 
Nort6 — a  mere  rancheria  or  hamlet.  The  quaint  old  church  of 
Morisco-Italian  style,  with  its  cupola  of  motley  japan,  the  resi 
dence  of  the  cura,  and  the  house  of  the  alcalde,  are  the  only 
stone  structures  in  the  place.  These  constitute  three  sides  of 
the  plaza,  a  somewhat  spacious  square.  The  remaining  side  is 
taken  up  with  shops  or  dwellings  of  the  common  people.  They 
are  built  of  large  unburnt  bricks  (adobes),  some  of  them  washed 
with  lime,  others  gradually  colored  like  the  proscenium  of  a 
theatre,  but  most  of  them  uniform  in  their  muddy  and  forbidding 
brown.  All  have  heavy,  jail-like  doors,  and  windows  without 
glass  or  sash.  The  reja  of  iron  bars  set  vertically,  opposes  the 
burglar,  not  the  weather. 

From  the  four  corners  of  the  plaza,  narrow,  unpaved,  dusty 
lanes  lead  off  to  the  country,  for  some  distance  bordered  on 
both  sides  by  the  adobe*  houses.  Still  further  out,  on  the  skirts 
of  the  village,  and  sparsely  placed,  are  dwellings  of  frailer  build 


A   MEXICAN    FRONTIER    VILLAGE.  13 

out  more  picturesque  appearance  ;  they  are  ridge-roofed  struc 
tures,  of  the  split  trunks  of  that  gigantic  lily,  the  arborescent 
yucca.  Its  branches  form  the  rafters,  its  tough  fibrous  leaves 
the  hatch.  In  these  ranchitos  dwell  the  poor  peons,  the  descend 
ants  of  the  conquered  race. 

The  stone  dwellings,  and  those  of  mud  likewise,  are  fiat-roofed, 
tiled  or  cemented,  sometimes  tastefully  japanned,  with  a  para 
pet  breast-high  running  round  the  edge.  This  flat  roof  is  the 
azotea,  characteristic  of  Mexican  architecture. 

When  the  sun  is  low  and  the  evening  cool,  the  azotea  is  a 
pleasant  lounging-place,  especially  when  the  proprietor  of  the 
house  has  a  taste  for  flowers  ;  then  it  is  converted  into  an  aerial 
garden,  and  displays  the  rich  flora,  for  which  the  picture-land  of 
Mexico  is  justly  celebrated.  It  is  just  the  place  to  enjoy  a  cigar, 
a  glass  of  pinole,  or,  if  you  prefer  it,  Catalan.  The  smoke  is 
wafted  away,  and  the  open  air  gives  a  relish  to  the  beverage. 
Besides,  your  eye  is  feasted  ;  you  enjoy  the  privacy  of  a  draw 
ing-room,  while  you  command  what  is  passing  in  the  street.  The 
slight  parapet  gives  security,  while  hindering  a  too  free  view 
from  below  ;  you  see,  without  being  seen.  The  world  moves 
on,  busied  with  earthly  affairs,  and  does  not  think  of  looking 
up. 

I  stand  upon  such  an  azotea:  it  is  that  over  the  house  of  the 
alcalde;,  and  his  being  the  tallest  roof  in  the  village,  I  command 
a  view  of  all  the  others.  I  can  see  beyond  them  all,  and  note 
the  prominent  features  of  the  surrounding  country.  My  eye 
wanders  with  delight  over  the  deep  rich  verdure  of  its  tropic 
vegetation;  I  can  even  distinguish  its  more  characteristic  forms 
— the  cactus,  the  yucca,  and  the  agave.  I  observe  that  the 
village  is  girdled  by  a  belt  of  open  ground — cultivated  fields — • 
where  the  maize  waves  its  silken  tassels  in  the  breeze,  contrast 
ing  with  the  darker  leaves  of  the  capsicums  and  beau-plants 
(frijoles).  This  open  ground  is  of  limited  extent.  The  chappa- 
ral,  with  its  thorny  thicket  of  acacias,  mimosae,  ingas,  and  Tobi 


4  THE    WAB-TBAIL. 

nias — a  perfect  maze  oi  leguminous  trees — hems  it  in;  and  sc 
near  is  the  verge  of  this  jungle,  that  I  can  distinguish  its 
undergrowth  of  stemless  sabal  palms  and  bromelias — the  sun- 
scorched  and  scarlet  leaves  of  the  pita  plant  shining  in  the  dis 
tance  like  lists  of  fire. 

This  propinquity  of  forest  to  the  little  pueblita  bespeaks  the 
indolence  of  the  inhabitants  ;  perhaps  not.  It  must  be  remem 
bered  that  these  people  are  not  agriculturists,  but  vaqueros 
(herdsmen)  ;  and  that  the  glades  and  openings  of  that  thick 
chapparal  are  speckled  with  herds  of  fierce  Spanish  cattle,  and 
droves  of  small  sharp-eared  Andalusian  horses,  of  the  race  of 
the  Barb.  The  fact  of  so  little  cultivation  does  not  abnegate 
the  existence  of  industry  on  the  part  of  the  villagers.  Grazing 
is  their  occupation,  not  farming  ;  only  a  little  of  the  latter  to 
give  them  maize  for  their  tortillas,  child  to  season  it  with,  and 
black  beans  to  complete  the  repast.  These  three,  with  the  half- 
wild  beef  of  their  wide  pastures,  constitute  the  staple  of  food 
throughout  all  Mexico.  For  drink,  the  denizen  of  the  high 
table-land  finds  his  favorite  beverage — the  rival  of  champagne — 
in  the  core  of  the  gigantic  aloe  ;  while  he  of  the  tropic  coast- 
land  refreshes  himself  from  the  stem  of  another  native  endogen, 
the  acrocomia  palm. 

Favored  land!  Ceres  loves  thee,  and  Bacchus  too.  To  thy 
fields  both  the  god  and  the  goddess  have  been  freely  bounteous. 
Food  and  drink  may  be  had  from  them  on  easy  terras.  Alas  ! 
as  in  all  other  lands — one  only  excepted — Nature's  divine  views 
have  been  thwarted,  her  aim  set  aside,  by  the  malignity  of  man. 
As  over  the  broad  world,  the  blight  of  the  despot  is  upon  thy 
beauty. 

Why  are  these  people  crowded  together — hived,  as  it  were, 
in  towns  and  villages?  Herdsmen,  one  would  expect  to  find 
scattered  by  reason  of  their  occupation.  Besides,  a  sky  con 
tinually  bright,  a  genial  clime,  a  picturesqueness  of  scene — all 
seem  to  invite  to  rural  life  ;  and  yet  I  Lave  ridden  for  hours,  u 


A   MEXICAN   FRONTIER    VILLAGE.  15 

succession  of  lovely  landscapes  rising  before  my  eyes,  all  of 
them  wild,  wanting  in  that  one  feature  which  makes  the  ruraj 
picture  perfect — the  house,  the  dwelling  of  man  !  Towns  there 
are,  and  at  long  intervals  the  huge  hacienda  of  the  landed  lord, 
walled  in  like  a  fortress  ;  but  where  are  the  ranches,  the  homes 
of  the  common  people  ?  True,  I  have  noticed  the  ruins  of  many, 
and  that  explains  the  puzzle.  I  remember,  now  that  I  am  on 
the  frontier,  that  for  years  past  the  banks  of  the  Rio  Bravo, 
from  its  source  to  the  sea,  have  been  hostile  ground — a  war- 
border  1500  miles  in  length  !  Many  a  red  conflict  has  occurred 
— is  still  occurring — between  those  Arabs  of  the  American 
desert — the  Horse  Indians — and  the  pale-faced  descendants  of 
the  Spaniard.  That  is  why  the  ranches  exist  only  in  ruins — 
that  is  why  the  haciendas  are  loopholed,  and  the  populace  pent 
up  within  walls.  The  condition  of  feudal  Europe  exists  in  free 
America,  on  the  banks  of  the  Rio  Bravo  del  Norte  ! 

******* 

Nearly  a  mile  off,  looking  westward,  I  perceive  the  sheen  of 
water  :  it  is  a  reach  of  the  great  river  that  glances  under  the 
setting  sun.  The  river  curves  at  that  point-;  and  the  sum- 
rait  of  a  gentle  hill,  half  girdled  by  the  stream,  is  crowLed  by 
the  low  white  walls  of  a  hacienda.  Though  only  one  story 
high,  this  hacienda  appears,  from  its  extent,  and  the  style  of  its 
architecture,  to  be  a  noble  mansion.  Like  all  of  its  class,  it  is 
flat-roofed  ;  but  the  parapet  is  crenated,  and  small  ornamental 
turrets  over  the  angles  and  the  great  gateway  relieve  the  mono 
tony  of  its  outlines.  A  larger  tower,  the  belfry,  appears  in  the 
background,  for  the  Mexican  hacienda  is  usually  provided  with 
its  little  capilla  for  the  convenient  worship  of  the  peon  retainers. 
The  emblems  of  religion,  such  as  it  is,  are  thick  over  the  land. 
The  glimmer  of  glass  behind  the  iron  rejas  relieves  to  some 
extent  the  prison-like  aspect,  so  characteristic  of  Mexican 
country-houses.  This  is  further  modified  by  the  appearance 
over  fte  parapet  of  green  foliage  Forms  of  tropic  vegetation 


16  THE   WAB-TRAIL. 

show  above  the  wall  ;  among  others,  the  gracetul  curving  fronds 
of  a  palm.  This  must  be  an  exotic,  for  although  the  lower  half 
of  the  Rio  Bravo  is  within  the  zone  of  the  palms,  the  species  thak 
grow  so  far  north  are  fan-palms  (chamarops  and  sabal).  This 
one  is  of  far  different  form,  with  plume-shaped  pinnate  fronds, 
of  the  character  of  cocos,  phcenix  or  euterpe.  I  note  the  fact, 
not  from  any  botanical  curiosity  with  which  it  inspires  me,  but 
rather  because  the  presence  of  this  exotic  palm  has  a  signifi 
cance.  It  illustrates  a  point  in  the  character  of  him — it  may  be 
her — who  is  the  presiding  spirit  of  the  place.  No  doubt  there 
is  a  fair  garden  upon  the  azotea — perhaps  a  fair  being  among 
its  flowers.  Pleasant  thoughts  spring  up — anticipations.  I 
long  to  climb  that  sloping  hill,  to  enter  that  splendid  mansion, 

and  longing  still,  I  gaze. 

******* 

The  ring  of  a  bugle  reminds  me  of  my  duties.  ;Tis  but  a 
stable-call;  but  it  has  driven  those  sweet  reflections  out  of  my 
mind,  and  my  eyes  are  turned  away  from  the  bright  mansion,  and 
rest  upon  the  plaza  of  the  pueblita.  There,  a  far  different  scene 
greets  their  glance. 


CHAPTER   III. 

THE     RANGERS      ON     PICKET. 

THE  centre  of  the  plaza  presents  a  salient  point  in  the  pic 
ture.  There  the  well  (dposo),  with  its  gigantic  wheel,  its  huge 
leathern  belt  and  buckets,  its  trough  of  cemented  stone-work, 
offers  an  oriental  aspect.  Yerily,  it  is  the  Persian  wheel  !  'Tis 
odd  to  a  northern  eye,  particularly,  to  find  such  a  structure  in 
this  western  land;  but  the  explanation  is  easy.  That  idea  has 
travelled  from  Egypt  along  the  southern  shores  of  the  Mediter 
ranean.  With  the  Moors  it  crossed  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar, 


THE   RANGERS   ON   PICKET.  17 

and  the  Spaniard  has  carried  it  over  the  Atlantic.  The  reader 
of  the  sacred  volume  will  find  many  a  familiar  passage  illustrated 
in  the  customs  of  Mexico.  The  genius  of  the  Arab  has  shaped 
many  a  thought  for  the  brain  of  the  Aztec. 

My  eye  rests  not  long  upon  the  Persian  wheel,  but  turns  to 
gaze  on  the  scene  of  active  life  that  is  passing  around  it.  Forms, 
and  varied  ones,  I  trow,  are  moving  there. 

Gliding  with  silent  step  and  dubious  look — his  wide  calzoneros 
flapping  around  his  ankles,  his  arms  and  shoulders  shrouded  in 
the  mottled  scrape",  his  black  broad-brimmed  hat  darkening  still 
more  his  swarth  face — goes  the  poblano,  the  denizen  of  the  adobe* 
hut.  He  shuns  the  centre  of  the  plaza,  keeping  around  the 
walls ;  but  at  intervals  his  eyes  are  turned  towards  the  well  with 
a  look  of  mingled  fierceness  and  fear.  He  reaches  a  doorway — 
it  is  silently  opened  by  a  hand  within — he  enters  quickly,  and 
seems  glad  to  get  out  of  sight.  A  little  after,  I  can  catch  a 
glimpse  of  his  sombre  face  dimly  outlined  behind  the  bars  of  the 
reja.  At  distant  corners,  I  descry  small  groups  of  his  class — all 
similarly  costumed  in  calzoneros,  striped  blankets,  and  glaze 
hats;  all,  like  him,  wearing  uneasy  looks.  They  gesticulate 
little,  contrary  to  their  usual  habit,  and  converse  only  in  whis 
pers  or  low  mutterings.  Unusual  circumstances  surround  them. 

Most  of  the  women  are  within  ioors  ;  a  few  of  the  poorer 
class — of  pure  Indian  race — are  seated  in  the  plaza.  They  are 
hucksters,  and  their  wares  are  spread  before  them  on  a  thin  palm- 
leaf  mat  (petate),  while  another  similar  one,  supported  umbrella- 
like  on  a  stem,  screens  them  and  their  merchandise  from  the  sun. 
Their  dyed  woollen  garments,  their  bare  heads,  their  coarse 
black  hair,  adorned  with  twists  of  scarlet  worsted,  give  them 
somewhat  of  a  gipsy  look.  They  appear  as  free  of  care  as  the 
zingali  themselves :  they  laugh,  and  chatter,  and  show  their  white 
teeth  all  day  long,  asking  each  new-comer  to  purchase  their  fruits 
and  Tegetables,  their  pinole,  atole,  and  agua  dulce.  Their  not 
unmusical  voices  ring  pleasantly  upon  the  ear. 


1  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

Now  and  then  a  young  girl,  with  red  »lla  poised  upon  her 
crown,  trips  lightly  across  the  plaza  in  the  direction  of  the  well 
Perhaps  she  is  a  poblana,  one  of  the  belles  of  the  village,  ii 
short-skirted,  bright-coloured  petticoat,  embroidered  but  sleeve 
less  chemisette,  with  small  satin  slippers  upon  her  feet;  head, 
shoulders,  and  bosom  shrouded  in  the  blue-gray  reboso  ;  arms  and 
ankles  bare.  Several  of  these  are  seen  passing  to  and  fro.  They 
appear  less  uneasy  than  the  men;  they  even  smile  at  intervals, 
and  reply  to  the  rude  badinage  uttered  in  an  unknown  tongue 
by  the  odd-looking  strangers  around  the  well.  The  Mexican 
women  are  courageous  as  they  are  amiable.  As  a  race,  their 
beauty  is  undeniable. 

But  who  are  these  strangers  ?  They  do  not  belong  to  the 
place,  that  is  evident ;  and  equally  clear  it  is  that  they  are 
objects  of  terror  to  those  who  do.  At  present,  they  are  masters 
here.  Their  numbers,  their  proud  confident  swagger,  and  the 
bold  loud  tone  of  their  conversation,  attest  that  they  are  mas 
ters  of  the  ground.  Who  are  they  ?  Odd-looking,  I  have  styled 
them ;  and  the  phrase  is  to  be  taken  in  its  full  significance.  A 
more  odd-looking  set  of  fellows  never  mustered  in  a  Mexican 
plaza,  nor  elsewhere. 

There  are  fourscore  of  them;  and  but  that  each  carries  a 
ya'ger  rifle  in  his  hand,  a  knife  in  his  belt,  and  a  Cola's  pistol  on 
his  thigh,  you  could  not  discover  the  slightest  point  of  resemb 
lance  between  any  two  of  them.  Their  arms  are  the  only  things 
about  them  denoting  uniformity,  and  some  sort  of  organization ; 
for  the  rest,  they  are  as  unlike  one  another  as  the  various  shapes 
and  hues  of  coarse  broadcloth,  woollen  jeans,  cottonades,  colored 
blankets,  and  buckskin,  can  make  them.  They  wear  caps  of 
'coon-skin,  and  cat's-skin,  and  squirrel  ;  hats  of  beaver,  and  felt, 
and  glaze,  of  wool  and  palmetto,  of  every  imaginable  shape  and 
slouch.  Even  of  the  modern  monster — the  silken  "  tile"— 
samples  might  be  seen,  badly  crushed.  There  are  coats  of  broad 
cloth,  few  in  number,  and  well  worn ;  but  many  are  the  garments 


THE   RANGEKS    ON   PICKET. 

of  "  Kentucky  jeans,"  of  bluish-grey,  of  copper-colored  nigger- 
cloth,  and  sky-colored  cottonade.  Some  wear  coats  made  of 
green  blankets,  others  of  blue  ones,  and  some  of  a  scarlet  red. 
There  are  hunting-shirts  of  dressed  deerskin,  with  plaited  skirt, 
and  cape,  fringed  and  jauntily  adorned  with  beads  and  embroid 
ery — the  favorite  style  of  the  backwoods  hunter  ;  but  others 
there  are  of  true  Indian  cut,  open  only  at  the  throat,  and  hang 
ing  loose,  or  fastened  around  the  waist  with  a  belt — the  same 
that  secures  the  knife  and  pistol.  There  are  cloth  jackets,  too, 
such  as  are  worn  by  sailors,  and  others  of  sky-blue  cottonade — 
the  costume  of  the  Creole  of  Louisiana;  some  of  red-brown 
leather — the  jaqueta  of  the  Spano- American ;  and  still  another 
fashion,  the  close-fitting  embroidered  "spencer"  of  the  Mexican 
ranchero.  Some  shoulders  are  covered  by  scrape's,  and  some  by 
the  more  graceful  and  toga-like  manga.  Look  lower  down: 
examine  the  limbs  of  the  men  of  this  motley  band  :  the  covering 
of  these  is  not  less  varied  than  their  upper  garments.  You  see 
wrappers  of  coarse  cloth,  of  flannel,  and  of  baize;  they  are  blue, 
and  scarlet,  and  green.  You  see  leggings  of  rawhide  and  of 
buckskin;  boots  of  horse-leather  reaching  to  the  thighs;  "nig 
ger  boots "  of  still  coarser  fabric,  with  the  pantaloons  tucked 
under  Irogans  of  unstained  calf-skin,  and  moccasins  of  varied 
cut,  betokening  the  fashion  of  more  than  one  Indian  tribe.  You 
may  see  limbs  incased  in  calzoneros,  and  others  in  the  heavy 
stamped  leather  lotas  of  the  Mexican  horseman,  resembling  the 
greaves  of  warriors  of  the  olden  time. 

The  heels  of  all  are  armed,  though  their  armature  is  as 
varied  as  the  costumes.  There  are  spurs  of  silver  and  of  steel, 
some  plated,  and  some  with  the  plating  worn  off ;  some  strapped, 
and  others  screwed  into  the  heel  of  the  boot;  some  light,  with 
small  rowels  and  tiny  teeth,  while  others  are  seen  (the  heavy 
spur  of  Mexico)  of  several  pounds'  weight,  with  rowels  five 
inches  in  diameter,  and  teeth  that  might  be  dashed  through  tha 
ribs  of  a  horse ! — cruel  weapons  of  the  Mexican  cavallero. 


U  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

But  these  spars  in  the  plaza,  these  betas  and  calzoneros, 
these  mangas  and  scrape's,  are  not  worn  by  Mexicans.  Their 
present  wearers  are  men  of  a  different  race.  Most  of  those  tall, 
stalwart  bodies  are  the  product  of  the  maize-plant  of  Kentucky 
and  Tennessee,  or  the  buckwheat  and  "  hog  meat "  of  the  fertile 
flats  of  Ohio,  Indiana,  and  the  Illinois.  They  are  the  squatters 
and  hunters  of  the  backwoods,  the  farmers  of  the  great  western 
slopes  of  the  Alleghanies,  the  boatmen  of  the  Mississippi,  the 
pioneers  of  Arkansas  and  Missouri,  the  trappers  of  prairie-land, 
the  voyageurs  of  the  lake-country,  the  young  planters  of  the 
lower  states,  the  French  Creoles  of  Louisiana,  the  adventurous 
settlers  of  Texas,  with  here  and  there  a  gay  city  spark  from  the 
larger  towns  of  the  "  great  West."  Yes,  and  from  other  sources 
are  individuals  of  that  mixed  band.  I  recognize  the  Teutonic 
type — the  fair  hair  and  whitish-yellow  moustache  of  the  German, 
the  florid  Englishman,  the  staid  Scot,  and  his  contrast  the  noisy 
Hibernian;  both  equally  brave.  I  behold  the  adroit  and  nimble 
Frenchman,  full  of  laugh  and  chatter,  the  stanch  soldierly  Swiss, 
and  the  moustached  exile  of  Poland,  dark,  sombre,  and  silent. 
What  a  study  for  an  ethnologist  is  that  band  of  odd-looking 
men  !  Who  are  they  ? 

You  have  thrice  asked  the  question.  I  answer  it  :  They  are 
a  corps  of  "  Rangers  " — a  guerilla  of  the  American  army. 

And  who  aim  I  ?     Their  captain — their  chief. 

Yes,  I  am  the  leader  of  that  queer  crew;  and,  despite  their 
rough  motley  aspect,  I  dare  affirm,  that  not  in  Europe,  not  in 
America  elsewhere,  not  upon  the  great  globe's  surface,  can  be 
found  a  band,  of  like  numbers,  to  equal  them  in  strength,  daring, 
and  warlike  intelligence.  Many  of  them  have  spent  half  a  life 
in  the  sharpening  practice  of  border  warfare — Indian  or  Mexi 
can — and  from  these  the  others  have  learnt.  Some  have  been 
gentlemen  upon  whom  fortune  has  frowned ;  a  few  have  been 
desperadoes  within  the  pale  of  civilized  life;  and  a  smaller  few,. 


THE   K ANGERS   ON   PICKET.  21 

perhaps,  outlaws  beyond  it — bad  materials  wherewith  to  colonize  ; 
not  so  bad,  if  you  go  but  to  conquer. 

Rude  as  is  the  coup  d'cdl  of  the  corps,  I  am  proud  to  say  that 
a  high  sentiment  of  honor  pervades  it,  higher  than  will  be  found 
in  the  picked  corps  de  garde  of  an  emperor.  True,  they  appear 
rough  and  reckless — terrible,  I  might  say ;  for  most  of  them — 
with  their  long  beards  and  hair,  dust-begrimed  faces,  slouched 
hats,  and  odd  habiliments,  belted  as  they  are  with  knife,  pistol, 
powder-horn,  and  pouch — present  such  an  aspect,  that  you  would 
wrong  them  to  take  them  as  they  look.  Few  among  them  are 
the  pure  bandits  whose  aim  is  plunder.  Many  a  noble  heart 
beats  beneath  a  rude  exterior — many  a  one  truly  humane. 
There  are  hearts  in  that  band  that  throb  under  the  influence  of 
patriotism  ;  some  are  guided  by  a  still  more  nobler  impulse,  a 
desire  to  extend  the  area  of  freedom ;  others,  it  is  true,  yearu 
but  for  revenge.  These  last  are  chiefly  Texans,  who  mourn  a 
friend  or  brother  slain  by  Mexican  treachery.  They  have  not 
forgotten  the  cowardly  assassination  of  Groliad  ;  they  remember 
the  red  butchery  of  the  Alamo. 

Perhaps  I  alone,  of  all  the  band,  have  no  motive  for  being 
here  ;  if  one,  'tis  slight — scarce  so  noble  as  vengeance.  Mere 
chance,  the  love  of  excitement  and  adventure,  perhaps  some 
weak  fondness  for  power  and  fame,  are  all  the  excuses  I  can  urge 
for  taking  a  hand  in  this  affair.  A  poor  adventurer,  without 
friends,  without  home,  without  country — for  my  native  land  is  no 
more  a  nation — my  heart  is  not  cheered  by  a  single  throb  of 
patriotism.  I  have  no  private  wrong  to  redress,  no  public 
cause,  no  country  for  which  to  combat. 

During  intervals  of  inaction,  these  thoughts  recur  to  me,  and 

give  me  pain. 

****** 

The  men  have  picketed  their  horses  in  the  church  enclosure; 
Bonae  are  tied  to  trees,  and  others  to  the  reja-bars  of  the  win 
dows:  like  their  riders,  a  motley  group,  various  in  size,  color, 


22  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

and  race.  The  strong  high-mettled  steed  of  Kentucky  and  Ten 
nessee,  the  light  "pacer"  of  Louisiana,  the  cob,  the  barb,  his 
descendant  the  "  mustang,"  that  but  a  few  weeks  ago  was  run 
ning  wild  upon  the  prairies,  may  all  be  seen  in  the  troop.  Mules, 
also,  of  two  distinct  races — the  large  gaunt  mule  of  North 
America,  and  the  smaller  and  more  sprightly  variety,  native  of 
the  soil. 

My  own  black  steed,  with  his  pretty  fern-colored  muzzle, 
stands  near  the  fountain  in  the  centre  of  the  plaza.  My  eye 
wanders  with  a  sort  of  habitual  delight  over  the  oval  outlines 
of  his  body.  How  proudly  he  curves  his  swan-like  neck,  and 
with  mock  anger  paws  up  the  dust !  He  knows  that  my  eyes  are 

upon  him. 

****** 

We  have  been  scarcely  an  hour  in  the  rancheria  ;  we  are  per 
fect  strangers  to  it  :  we  are  the  first  American  troop  its  people 
have  yet  seen,  although  the  war  has  been  going  on  for  some 
months  fnrther  down  the  river.  We  have  been  sent  here  upon 
picket-duty,  with  orders  to  scour  the  surrounding  country  as  far 
as  it  is  safe.  The  object  in  sending  us  hither  is  not  so  much  to 
guard  agaiust  a  surprise  from  our  Mexican  foe,  who  is  not  upon 
this  side,  but  to  guard  them,  the  Mexicans,  from  another  enemy 
— an  enemy  of  both  of  us — the  Comauche!  These  Indian  Ish- 
maelites,  report  says,  are  upon  the  "war-trail,"  and  have  quite 
an  army  in  the  field.  It  is  said  they  are  foraging  further  up  the 
river,  where  they  have  it  all  to  themselves,  and  have  just  pillaged 
a  settlement  in  that  direction — butchered  the  men,  as  is  their 
wont,  and  carried  off  the  women,  children,  and  chattels.  We 
came  hither  to  conquer  the  Mexicans,  but  we  must  protect  wnile 
tonqueri*ig  them  !  Cosas  de  Mexico  ! 


MAKING   A  CAPTIVE.  23 


CHAPTER  IV. 

MAKING    A     CAPTIVE. 

1  WAS  musing  upon  the  singular  character  of  this  triangular 
war,  when  my  reverie  was  disturbed  by  the  hoof-strokes  of  a 
horse.  The  sounds  came  from  a  distance,  outside  the  village  ; 
the  strokes  were  those  of  a  horse  at  full  gallop. 

I  stepped  hastily  across  the  azotea,  and  looked  over  the  para 
pet,  in  hopes  of  obtaining  a  view  of  this  rapid  rider.  I  was  not 
disappointed — the  road  and  the  rider  came  full  under  my  eyes. 

In  the  latter,  I  beheld  a  picturesque  object.  He  appeared  to 
be  a  very  young  man — a  mere  youth,  without  beard  or  mous 
tache,  but  of  singularly  handsome  features.  The  complexion 
was  dark,  almost  brown;  but  even  at  the  distance  of  two  hun 
dred  yards,  I  could  perceive  the  flash  of  a  noble  eye,  and  note  a 
damask  redness  upon  his  cheeks.  His  shoulders  were  covered 
with  a  scarlet  manga,  that  draped  backward  over  the  hips  of  his 
horse;  and  upon  his  head  he  wore  a  light  sombrero,  laced,  banded, 
and  tasselled  with  bullion  of  gold.  The  horse  was  a  small,  but 
finely  proportioned  mustang,  spotted  like  a  jaguar  upou  a  ground 
color  of  cream — a  true  Andalusian. 

The  horseman  was  advancing  at  a  gallop,  without  fear  of  the 
ground  before  him  :  by  chance,  his  eyes  were  raised  to  the  level 
of  the  a/otea,  on  which  I  stood  ;  my  uniform,  and  the  sparkle 
of  my  accoutrements,  caught  his  glance;  and  quick  as  thought, 
as  if  by  an  involuntary  movement,  he  reined  up  his  mustang, 
until  its  ample  tail  lay  clustered  upon  the  dust  of  the  road.  It 
was  then  that  I  noted  the  singular  appearance  of  both  horse 
*nd  rider. 


24:  THE    WAK-TKAIL. 

Just  at  that  moment,  the  ranger,  who  held  picket  on  that  side 
of  the  village,  sprang  forth  from  his  hiding-place,  and  challenged 
the  horseman  to  halt.  The  challenge  was  unheeded.  Another 
jerk  of  the  rein  spun  the  mustang  round,  as  upon  a  pivot,  and 
the  next  instant,  impelled  by  the  spur,  the  animal  resumed  his 
gallop.  He  did  not  return  by  the  road,  but  shot  off  in  a  new 
direction,  nearly  at  right  angles  to  his  former  course.  A  rifle- 
bullet  would  have  followed,  and  most  likely  have  stopped  the 
career  of  either  horse  or  rider,  had  not  I,  just  in  the  nick  of 
time,  shouted  to  the  sentry  to  hold  his  fire. 

A  reflection  had  occurred  to  me:  the  game  was  too  noble,  too 
beautiful,  to  be  butchered  by  a  bullet  ;  it  was  worth  a  chase  and 
a  capture. 

My  horse  was  by  the  water-trough.  I  had  noticed  that  he 
was  not  yet  unsaddled,  and  the  bridle  was  still  on.  He  had 
been  warmed  by  the  morning's  scout ;  and  I  had  ordered  my 
negro  groom  to  walk  him  round  for  an  hour  or  so  before  Letting 
him  at  the  water. 

I  did  not  wait  to  descend  by  the  etcetera  ;  I  sprang  upon  the 
parapet,  and  from  that  into  the  piazza.  The  groom,  perceiving 
my  intention,  met  me  half-way  with  the  horse.  I  seized  the 
reins,  and  bounded  into  the  saddle.  Several  of  the  readiest  of 
the  rangers  followed  my  example;  and  as  I  galloped  down  the 
lane  that  led  out  of  the  rancheria,  I  could  tell  by  the  clattering 
of  hoofs  that  half  a  dozen  of  them  were  at  my  heels.  I  cared 
not  much  for  that,  for  surely  I  was  a  match  for  the  stripling  we 
meant  to  chase.  I  knew,  moreover,  that  speed  at  the  moment 
was  of  more  importance  than  strength;  and  that  if  the  spotted 
horse  possessed  as  much  "  bottom"  as  he  evidently  did  "  heels," 
his  rider  and  I  would  have  it  to  ourselves  in  the  end.  I  knew 
that  all  the  horses  of  my  troop  were  less  swift  than  my  own  • 
and  from  the  half-dozen  springs  I  had  witnessed  on  the  part  of 
the  mustang,  I  felt  satisfied  that  it  remained  only  for  me  to  over 
haul  him. 


MAKING   A   CAPTIVE.  25 

My  springing  down  from  the  roof  and  up  into  the  saddle  had 
occupied  scarcely  two  minutes'  time;  and  in  two  more,  I  had 
cleared  the  houses,  and  was  scouring  across  the  fields  after  the 
scarlet  horseman.  He  was  evidently  making  to  get  round  the 
village,  and  continue  the  journey  our  presence  had  so  suddenly 
interrupted. 

The  chase  led  through  a  field  of  milpas  (maize).  My  horse 
sank  deeply  in  the  loose  earth,  while  the  lighter  mustang  bounded 
over  it  like  a  hare:  he  was  distancing  me.  I  began  to  fear  I 
would  lose  him,  when  all  at  once  I  saw  that  his  course  was  in 
tercepted  by  a  list  of  magueys,  running  transversely  right  and 
left.  The  plants  were  of  luxuriant  growth,  eight  or  ten  feet 
high,  and  placed  alternately,  so  that  their  huge  hooked  blades 
interlocked  with  each  other,  forming  a  natural  ckevaux-de-frise. 

This  barrier  at  first  glance  seemed  impassable  for  either  man 
or  horse.  It  brought  the  Mexican  to  a  halt.  He  was  turning 
to  skirt  it,  when  he  perceived  that  I  had  leaned  into  the  diagonal 
line,  and  could  not  fail  to  head  him.  With  a  quick  wrench  upon 
the  rein,  he  once  more  wheeled  round,  set  his  horse  against  the 
magueys,  plied  the  spur,  and  dashed  right  into  their  midst.  In 
a  moment  more,  both  horse  and  rider  were  out  of  sight;  but  as 
I  spurred  up  to  the  spot,  I  could  hear  the  thick  blades  crackle 
under  the  hoofs  of  the  mustang. 

There  was  no  time  for  reflection.  I  must  either  follow,  or 
abandon  the  pursuit.  The  alternative  was  not  thought  of.  I 
was  on  my  honor,  my  steed  upon  his  mettle ;  and  without  halt 
we  went  plunging  through  the  magueys. 

Torn  and  bleeding,  we  came  out  on  the  opposite  side;  and  I 
perceived,  to  my  satisfaction,  that  I  had  made  better  time  than 
the  red  rider  before  me  :  his  halt  had  lessened  the  distance  be 
tween  us.  But  another  field  of  milpas  had  to  be  passed,  and  he 
was  again  gaining  upon  me,  as  we  galloped  over  the  heavy 
ground.  When  nearly  through  the  field,  I  perceived  something 
glancing  before  us:  it  was  water — a  wide  drain  or  ditch,  a  zequia 


26  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

for  irrigating  the  field.  Like  the  magueys,  it  ran  transversely 
to  our  course. 

"  That  will  stop  him,"  thought  I  ,  "  he  must  take  to  the  right 
or  left,  and  then " 

My  thoughts  were  interrupted.  Instead  of  turning  either  to 
right  or  left,  the  Mexican  headed  his  horse  at  the  zequia,  and 
the  noble  creature  rushing  forward,  rose  like  a  bird  upon  the 
wing,  and  cleared  the  canal  ! 

I  bad  no  time  to  expend  in  admiring  the  feat ;  I  hastened  to 
imitate  it,  and  galloping  forward,  I  set  myself  for  the  leap.  My 
brave  steed  needed  neither  whip  nor  spur;  he  had  seen  the  other 
leap  the  zequia,  and  he  knew  what  was  expected  of  him.  With 
a  bound,  he  went  over,  clearing  the  drain  by  several  feet  ;  and 
then,  as  if  resolved  upon  bringing  the  affair  to  an  end,  he 
laid  his  head  forward,  and  stretched  himself  at  race-course 
speed. 

A  broad  grassy  plain — a  savannah — lay  before  us,  and  the 
hoofs  of  both  horses,  pursuer  and  pursued,  now  rang  upon  hard 
firm  turf.  The  rest  of  the  chase  would  have  been  a  simple  trial 
of  speed,  and  I  made  sure  of  overhauling  the  mustang  before  he 
could  reach  the  opposite  side,  when  a  new  obstacle  presented 
itself.  A  vast  herd  of  cattle  and  horses  studded  the  savannah 
throughout  its  whole  extent  ;.  these,  startled  by  our  wild  gallop, 
tossed  their  heads,  and  ran  affrighted  in  every  direction,  but  fre 
quently  as  otherwise,  directly  in  our  way.  More  than  once,  I 
was  forced  to  rein  in,  to  save  my  neck  or  my  horse's  from  being 
broken  over  a  fierce  bull  or  a  long-horned  lumbering  ox  ;  and 
more  than  once  I  was  compelled  to  swerve  from  my  course. 

What  vexed  me  most  was,  that  in  this  zigzag  race,  the  mus 
tang,  from  practice,  perhaps,  had  the  advantage;  and  while  it 
continued,  he  increased  his  distance.  We  cleared  the  drove  at 
length  ;  but  to  my  chagrin  I  perceived  that  we  were  nearly 
across  the  plain.  As  I  glanced  ahead,  I  saw  the  chappara! 
near,  with  taller  trees  rising  over  it;  beyond,  I  saw  the  swell  of 


MAKING   A   CAPTIVE.  27 

a  hill,  with  white  walls  upon  its  summit.     It  was  the  hacienda 
already  mentioned :  we  were  riding  directly  for  it. 

I  was  growing  anxious  about  the  result.     Should  the  horse 
man  reach  the  thicket,  I  would  be  almost  certain  to  lose  him.    1 
dared  not  let  him  escape.     What  would  my  men  say,  if  I  went 
back  without  him  ?     I  had  hindered  the  sentry  from  firing,  and 
permitted  to  escape,  perhaps  a  spy,  perhaps  some  important  per 
sonage.     His  desperate  efforts  to  get  off  favored  the  supposition 
that  he  was  one  or  the  other.     He  must  be  taken ! 

Under  the  impulse  of  fresh  determination,  I  lanced  the  flanks 
of  my  horse  more  deeply  than  ever;  he  knew  what  was  wanted, 
and  stretched  himself  to  his  utmost.  There  were  no  more  cattle, 
not  an  obstacle,  and  his  superior  speed  soon  lessened  the  distance 
between  himself  and  the  mustang.  Ten  seconds  more  would 
do  it. 

The  ten  seconds  flew  by.  I  felt  myself  within  shooting  dis 
tance;  I  drew  my  pistol  from  its  holster. 

II  Alto  I  o  yo  tiro"  (Halt !  or  I  fire),  I  cried  aloud.     There  wa? 
no  reply  :  the  mustang  kept  on  !     "  Halt  !"  I  cried  again,  unwil 
ling  to  take  the  life  of  a  fellow-creature — "halt  I  or  you  are  a 
dead  man  1" 

No  reply  again. 

There  were  not  six  yards  between  myself  and  the  Mexican. 
Riding  straight  behind  him,  I  could  have  sent  a  bullet  into  his 
back.  Some  secret  instiuct  restrained  me ;  it  was  partly,  though 
not  altogether,  a  feeling  of  admiration :  there  was  an  indefinable 
idea  in  my  mind  at  the  moment.  My  finger  rested  on  the  trigger, 
and  I  could  not  draw  it. 

"  He  must  not  escape  !  He  is  nearing  the  trees  !  He  must 
not  be  allowed  to  enter  the  thicket  ;  I  shall  cripple  the  horse." 

I  looked  for  a  place  to  aim  at ;  should  I  hit  him  in  the  hips, 
he  might  still  get  off.  Where  ? 

At  this  moment,  the  animal  wheeled,  as  if  guided  by  his  own 
impulse— perhaps  by  the  knees  of  his  rider— and  shot  off  in  a 


28  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

new  direction.  The  object  of  this  manoeuvre  was  to  pit  space  be 
tween  us.  So  far  it  was  successful  ;  but  it  gave  me  just  the  oppor 
tunity  to  aim  as  I  wanted  ;  and  levelling  my  pistol,  I  sent  a  bul 
let  into  the  kidneys  of  the  mustang.  A  single  plunge  forward 
was  his  last,  and  both  horse  and  rider  came  to  the  ground. 

In  an  instant  the  latter  had  disengaged  himself  from  his 
struggling  steed,  and  stood  upon  his  feet.  Fancying  he  might 
still  attempt  to  escape  to  the  thicket,  I  spurred  forward,  pistol 
in  hand,  and  pointed  the  weapon  at  his  head. 

He  had  no  intention  either  of  further  flight  or  resistance;  but 
facing  the  levelled  tube,  and  looking  me  full  in  the  face,  he  said 
with  an  air  of  perfect  coolness  : 

"  No  matame,  cavallero  !  Soy  muger  /"  (Do  not  kill  me,  sir  1 
I  am  a  woman  !) 


CHAPTER    V. 

MY     CAPTIVE. 

"  Do  not  kill  me  sir!    I  am  a  woman  /" 

THIS  declaration  scarcely  astonished  me;  I  was  half  prepared 
tor  it.  During  our  wild  gallop,  I  had  noticed  one  or  two  cir 
cumstances  which  led  me  to  suspect  that  the  spy  I  pursued  was 
a  female.  As  the  mustang  sprang  over  the  zequia,  the  flowing 
skirt  of  the  manga  was  puffed  upward,  and  hung  for  some 
moments  spread  out  in  the  air.  A  velvet  bodice  beneath,  a 
tunic-like  skirt,  the  tournure  of  the  form,  all  impressed  me  as 
singular  for  a  cavallero,  however  rich  and  young.  The  limbs  I 
could  not  see,  as  the  goat-skin  armas-de-agua  were  drawn  over 
them  ;  but  I  caught,  a  glimpse  of  a  gold  spur,  and  the  heel  of 
a  tiny  red  boot  to  which  it  was  attached.  The  clubbed  hair, 
too,  loosened  by  the  violent  motion,  sprang  backward,  and  ia 


MY    CAPTIVE.  29 

two  thick  plaits,  slightly  dishevelled,  rested  upon  the  croup  of 
the  horse.  A  young  Indian's  might  have  done  so,  but  his  tres 
ses  would  have  been  jet-black  and  coarse-grained,  whereas  those 
under  my  eyes  were  soft,  silky,  and  nut-brown.  Neither  the 
style  of  riding — a  la  Duchesse  de  Berri — nor  the  manlike  cos 
tume  of  manga  and  hat,  hindred  me  from  forming  my  conclusions. 
Both  the  style  and  costume  are  common  to  the  rancheras  of 
Mexico.  Moreover,  as  the  mustang  made  his  last  double,  I  had 
caught  a  near  view  of  the  side  face  of  his  rider.  The  features 
of  no  man — not  the  Trojan  shepherd,  not  Adonis  nor  Endymion 
— were  so  exquisitely  chiselled  as  they.  Certainly  a  woman  1 
Her  declaration  at  once  put  an  end  to  my  conjectures,  but,  as  I 
have  said,  did  not  astonish  me. 

I  was  astonished,  however,  by  its  tone  and  manner.  Instead 
of  being  uttered  in  accents  of  alarm,  it  was  pronounced  as 
coolly  as  if  the  whole  thing  had  been  a  jest !  Sadness,  not  sup 
plication,  was  the  prevailing  tone,  which  was  further  confirmed 
as  she  knelt  to  the  ground,  pressed  her  lips  to  the  muzzle  of  the 
still  breathing  mustang,  and  exclaimed  : 

"  Ay-de  mi !  poire  yegua !  muerte !  muerte  /"  (Alas  me  !  poor 
mare  !  dead  !  dead!) 

"  A  woman  ?"  said  I,  feigning  astonishment.  My  interroga 
tory  was  unheeded  ;  she  did  not  even  look  up. 

"  Ay-de-mi !  poire  yegua!  Lola,  Lolita !'  she  repeated,  aa 
coolly  as  if  the  dead  mustang  was  the  only  object  of  her 
thoughts,  and  I,  the  armed  assassin,  fifty  miles  from  the  spot ! 

"  You  say  you  are  a  woman  ?"  I  again  asked — in  my  embar 
rassment  scarcely  knowing  what  to  say. 

"  Si,  senor;  nada  mas — que  quiere  V.  ?"  (Yes,  sir  ;  nothing 
more — what  do  you  want  ?)  As  she  made  this  reply,  she  rose 
to  her  feet,  and  stood  confronting  me  without  the  slightest  sem 
blance  of  fear.  So  unexpected  was  the  answer,  both  in  tone 
and  sentiment,  that  for  the  life  of  me  I  could  not  help  breaking 
into  a  laugh. 


30  THE    WAB-TBAIL. 

11  Yon  are  merry,  eir.  You  have  made  me  sad  ;  you  have 
killed  my  favorite  I" 

I  shall  not  easily  forget  the  look  that  accompanied  these 
words — sorrow,  anger,  contempt,  defiance,  were  expressed  in  one 
and  the  same  glance.     My  laughter  was  suddenly  checked  ;  I 
felt  humiliated  in  that  proud  presence. 

"  Senorita,"  I  replied,  "I  deeply  regret  the  necessity  I  have 
been  under  :  it  might  have  been  worse  ?" 

"  And  how,  pray  ? — how  worse  ?"  demanded  she,  interrupting 
me. 

"  My  pistol  might  have  been  aimed  at  yourself,  but  for  a  sus 
picion" 

II  Carrambo !"  cried  she,  again  interrupting  me,  "it could  not 
have  been  worse  !  I  loved   that'  creature  dearly — dearly  as  I 
do  my  life — as  I  love  my  father — -poire  yeguita — ita — tia !" 

And  as  she  thus  wildly  expressed  herself,  she  bent  down, 
passed  her  arms  around  the  neck  of  the  mustang,  and  once  more 
pressed  her  lips  to  its  velvet  cheek.  Then  gently  closing  its 
eyelids,  she  rose  to  an  erect  attitude,  ancl  stood  with  folded  arms, 
regarding  the  lifeless  form  with  a  sad  and  bitter  expression  of 
countenance.  , 

I  scarcely  knew  what  to  say.  I  was  in  a  dilemma  with  my 
fair  captive.  I  would  have  given  a  month  of  my  "  pay-roll  "  to 
have  restored  the  spotted  mustang  to  life  ;  but  as  that  was  out 
of  the  question,  I  bethought  me  of  some  means  of  making 
restitution  to  its  owner.  An  offer  of  money  would  not  be  deli 
cate.  What  then  ? 

A  thought  occurred  to  me,  that  promised  to  relieve  me  from 
my  embarrassment.  The  eagerness  of  the  rich  Mexicans  to 
obtain  our  large  American  horses— frisomes,  as  they  term  them 
— was  well  known  throughout  the  army.  Fabulous  prices  were 
often  paid  for  them  by  these  ricos,  who  wanted  them  for  display 
upon  the  Paseo.  We  had  many  good  half-bred  bloods  in  the 
troop  ;  one  of  these,  thought  I,  might  be  acceptable,  even  to  a 


MY    CAPTIVE.       *  31 

a&dy  who  had  lost  her  pet.  I  made  the  offer  as  delicately  as  1 
could.  It  was  rejected  with  scorn  ! 

"  What,  senor  !"  crbd  she,  striking  the  ground  with  her  foot 
till  the  rowels  rang — "what?  A  horse  to  me? — Mira!"  she 
continued,  pointing  to  the  plain  :  "  look  there,,  sir  !  There  are 
a  thousand  horses  ;  they  are  mine.  Now.  know  the  value  of 
your  offer.  Do  I  stand  in  need  of  a  horse  ?" 

"But  Senorita,"  stammered  I,  apologiziugly  "  these  are  horses 
of  native  race.  The  one  I  propose  to  " 

"Bah  !"  she  exclaimed,  interrupting  me,  and  pointing  to  the, 
mustang  ;  "  I  would  not  have  exchanged  that  native  for  all  the 
frisones  in  your  troop.  Not  one  of  them  was  its  equal  !" 

A  personal  slight  would  not  have  called  forth  a  contra 
diction  ;  yet  this  defiance  had  that  effect.  She  had  touched 
the  chord  of  my  vanity — I  might  almost  say,  of  my  affection. 
With  some  pique  I  replied  : 

'•  One,  senor  ita  ?" 

I  looked  towards  Moro  as  I  spoke.  Her  eyes  followed  mine, 
and  she  stood  for  some  moments  gazing  at  him  in  silence. 
I  watched  the  expression  of  her  eye  ;  I  saw  it  kindle  into  admi 
ration  as  it  swept  over  the  gracefully  curving  outlines  of  my 
noble  steed.  He  looked  at  the  moment  superb  ;  the  short 
skurry  had  drawn  the  foam  from  his  lips,  and  flakes  of  it  clung 
against  his  neck  and  counter,  contrasting  finely  with  the  shining 
black  of  his  skin  ;  his  sides  heaved  and  fell  in  regular  undula 
tions,  and  the  smoke  issued  from  his  blood-red  nostrils  ;  his  eye 
was  still  on  fire,  and  his  neck  proudly  arched,  as  though  consci 
ous  of  his  late  triumph,  and  the  interest  he  was  now  exciting. 

For  a  long  while  she  stood  gazing  upon  him,  and  though  ehe 
spoke  not  a  word,  I  saw  that  she  recognised  his  fine  points. 

"  You  are  right,  cavallero,"  said  she  at  length,  thoughtfully  ; 
"  he  is:1 

Just  then,  a  series  of  reflections  were  passing  through  my 
mind,  that  rendered  me  extrenrely  uncomfortable  ;  and  I  felt 


WAB-TRAIL. 

regret  that  I  had  so  pointedly  drawn  her  attention  to  the  horse 
Would  she  demand  him  ?  That  was  the  thought  that  troubled 
me.  I  had  not  promised  her  any  horse  in  my  troop,  and  Moro 
I  would  not  have  given  for  her  herd  of  a  thousand  ;  but  on  the 
strength  of  the  offer  I  had  made,  what  if  she  should  fancy  him  ? 
The  circumstances  were  awkward  for  a  refusal  ;  indeed,  under 
any  circumstances  refusal  would  have  been  painful.  I  began  to 
feel  that  I  could  deny  nothing.  This  proud,  beautiful  woman 
already  divided  my  interest  with  Moro  ! 

My  position  was  a  delicate  one  ;  fortunately,  I  was  relieved 
from  it  by  an  incident  that  carried  our  thoughts  into  a  new  cur 
rent  ;  the  troopers  who  had  followed  me  at  that  moment 
rode  up. 

She  seemed  uneasy  at  their  presence  ;  tbAt  could  not  be  won 
dered  at,  considering  their  wild  garb  and  fierce  Jooks.  I  ordered 
them  back  to  their  quarters.  They  stared  for  a  moment  at  the 
fallen  mustang  with  its  rich  blood-stained  trappings,  at  its  late 
rider,  and  her  picturesque  garments ;  and  then,  muttering  a  few 
words  to  one  another,  obeyed  the  erdsr.  I  w«*  <•***•  more 
alone  with  my  captive 


CHAPTER     VI  . 

/ 

I80LINA       DE       VARGAS. 

As  soon  as  the  men  were  out  of  hearing,  she  said 
tively  :  "  Tejanos  ?" 

"  Some  of  them  are  Texans — not  all." 

"  You  are  their  chief  ?" 

"  I  am." 

"  CaDtain  1  presume  ?w 


ISOLINA    DE    VARGAS.  33 

"  That  is  my  rank." 

•'  And  now,  Senor  Captain,  am  I  your  captive  ?" 

The  question  took  me  by  s  jrprise,  and,  for  the  moment,  I  did 
not  know  what  answer  to  make.  The  excitement  of  the  chase, 
the  encounter,  and  its  curious  developments — perhaps,  above  all 
other  things,  the  bewitching  beauty  of  my  captive — had  driven 
out  of  my  mind1  the  whole  purpose  of  the  pursuit  ;  and  foi 
some  minutes  I  had  not  been  thinking  of  any  result.  The  inter 
rogatory  reminded  me  that  I  had  a  delicate  duty  to  perform. 
Was  this  lady  a  spy  ? 

Such  a  supposition  was  by  no  means  improbable,  as  any  old 
campaigner  can  testify.  "Fair  ladies — though  never  one  so 
fair  as  she — have,  ere  now,  served  their  country  in  this  fashion. 
She  may  be  the  bearer  of  some  important  dispatch  for  the  enemy. 
If  so,  and  I  permit  her  to  go  free,  the  consequences  may  be 
serious — unpleasant  even  to  myself."  Thus  ran  my  reflections. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  disliked  the  duty  of  taking  her  back  a 
prisoner.  I  feared  to  execute  it  ;  I  dreaded  her  displeasure.  1 
wished,  to  be  friends  with  her.  I  felt  the  influence  of  that  myste 
rious  power  which  transcends  all  strength — the  power  of  beauty. 
I  had  been  but  ten  minutes  in  the  company  of  this  brown-skinned 
maiden,  and  already  she  controlled  my  heart  as  though  she  had 
been  its  mistress  for  life  I 

I  knew  not  how  to  reply.  She  saw  that  I  hesitated,  and 
again  put  the  question  : 

"  Am  I  your  captive  ?" 

"  I  fear,  seiiorita,  I  am  yours." 

I  was  prompted  to  this  declaration,  partly  to  escape  from  a 
direct  answer,  and  partly  giving  way  to  the  passion  already  fast 
gathering  in  my  bosom.  It  was  no  coquetry  on  my  part,  no 
desire  to  make  a  pretty  passage  of  words.  Though  I  spoke  only 
from  impulse,  T  was  serious  ;  and  with  no  little  anxiety  did  I 
watch  the  eff i  t  of  my  speech. 

Her  large  istrous  eyes  rested  upon  me,  at  first  with  a  puzzled 

2* 


34:  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

expression  ;  this  gradually  changed  to  one  of  more  significance 
— one  that  pleased  me  better.  She  seemed  for  a  moment  to 
throw  aside  her  indifference,  and  regarded  me  with  more  atten 
tion.  I  fancied,  from  the  glance  she  gave,  that  she  was  con 
tented  with  what  I  had  said.  For  all  that,  the  slight  curl  upon 
her  pretty  lip  had  a  provoking  air  of  triumph  in  it ;  and  she 
resumed  her  proud  hauteur  as  she  replied  : 

"  Come,  cavallero,  this  is  idle  compliment.  Am  I  free 
to  go  ?" 

I  wavered  betwixt  duty  and  over-politeness  :  a  compromise 
offered  itself. 

"  Lady,"  said  I,  approaching  her,  and  looking  as  seriously  as 
I  could  into  her  beautiful  eyes,  "  if  you  give  me  your  word  that 
you  are  not  a  spy,  you  are  free  to  go  :  your  word — I  ask  nothing 
more." 

I  prescribed  these  conditions  rather  in  a  tone  of  entreaty  than 
command.  I  affected  sternness,  but  my  countenance  must  have 
mocked  me. 

My  captive  broke  into  unrestrained  laughter,  crying  out  at 
intervals  : 

"la  spy  ! — a  spy  !  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  Senor  Capitan,  you  are 
jesting  ?" 

"  I  hope,  senorita,  you  are  in  earnest.  You  are  no  spy,  then  ? 
— you  bear  no  dispatch  for  our  enemy  ?" 

"  Nothing  of  the  sort,  mio  capitan  ;"  and  she  continued  her 
light  laughter. 

"  Why,  then,  did  you  try  to  make  away  from  us  ?" 

"  Ah,  cavallero  1  are  you  not  Tejanos  ?  Do  not  be  offendea 
when  I  tell  you  that  your  people  bear  but  an  indifferent  reputa 
tion  among  us  Mexicans." 

"  But  your  attempt  to  escape  was,  to  say  the  least,  rash  and 
imprudent  ;  you  risked  life  by  it." 

"  Carrambo,  yes  1  I  perceive  I  did  ;"  and  she  looked  signi« 
ficantly  at  the  mustang,  while  a  bitter  smile  played  upon  her 


ISOLINA   DE  VAKGAS.  35 

lips.  "  I  perceive  it  now  ;  I  did  not  then.  I  did  not  think 
there  was  a  horseman  in  all  your  troop  could  come  up  with  me. 
Merced !  there  was  one.  You  have  overtaken  me  :  you  alone 
could  have  done  it." 

As  she  uttered  these  words,  her  large  brown  eyes  were  onc» 
more  turned  upon  me — not  in  a  fixed  gaze,  but  wandering.  She 
gcanried  me  from  the  forage-cap  on  my  crown  to  the  spur  upon 
my  heel.  I  watched  her  eye  with  eager  interest :  I  fancied  that 
its  scornful  expression  was  giving  way  ;  I  fancied  there  was  a 
ray  of  tenderness  in  the  glance.  I  would  have  given  the  world 
to  have  divined  her  thoughts  at  that  moment. 

Our  eyes  met,  and  parted  in  mutual  embarrassment — at  least 
I  fancied  so  ;  for  on  turning  again,  I  saw  that  her  head  drooped, 
and  her  gaze  was  directed  downward,  as  if  some  new  thought 
occupied  her. 

For  some  moments,  both  were  silent.  We  might  have 
remained  longer  thus,  but  it  occurred  to  me  that  I  was  acting 
rudely.  The  lady  was  still  my  captive.  I  had  not  yet  given 
her  permission  to  depart :  I  hastened  to  tender  it. 

"  Spy  or  no  spy,  senorita,  I  shall  not  detain  you.  I  shall  bear 
the  risk  :  you  are  free  to  go." 

*'  Gracias !  cavallero !  And  now,  since  you  have  behaved  so 
handsomely,  I  shall  set  your  mind  at  rest  about  the  risk. 
Read  !" 

She  handed  me  a  folded  paper ;  at  a  glance  I  recognised  the 
safe-guard  of  the  commander-in-chief,  enjoining  upon  all  to  respect 
its  bearer — the  Dona  Isolina  de  Vargas. 

"  You  perceive,  mio  capitan,  I  was  not  your  captive  after  all  ? 
ha  !  ha  1  ha  \» 

"  Lady,  you  are  too  generous  not  to  pardon  the  rudeness 
to  which  you  have  been  subjected  ?J; 

"  Freely,  capitan — freely." 

"  I  shudder  at  thought  of  the  risk  you  have  run.  Why  did 
vou  act  with  such  imprudence  ?  Your  sudden  flight  at  sight  of 


36  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

our  picket  caused  suspicion,  and  of  course  it  was  our  duty  to 
follow  and  capture  you.  With  the  safe-guard,  you  had  no  cause 
for  flight." 

"  Ha  I   it  was  that  very  safe-guard  that  caused  me  to  fly." 

"  The  safe-guard,  senorita  ?     Pray,  explain  1" 

"  Can  I  trust  your  prudence,  capitan  ?" 

''  I  promise" 

"  Know,  then,  that  I  was  not  certain  you  were  Americanos, 
for  aught  I  could  see,  you  might  have  been  a  guerilla  of  my 
countrymen.  How  would  it  be  if  this  paper,  and  sundry  others 
I  carry,  were  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  Canales  ?  You  perceive, 
capitan,  we  fear  our  frie.nds  more  than  our  enemies." 

I  now  fully  comprehended  the  motive  of  her  wild  flight. 

"  You  speak  Spanish  too  well,  mio  capitan,"  continued  she. 
"  Had  you  cried  '  Halt  !J  in  your  native  tongue,  I  should  at 
once  have  pulled  up,  and  perhaps  saved  my  pet.  Ah,  me  1 — 
poire  yegua  /" 

As  she  uttered  the  last  exclamation,  her  feelings  once  more 
overcame  her  ;  and  sinking  down  upon  her  knees,  she  passed  her 
arms  around  the  neck  of  the  mustang,  now  stiff  and  cold.  Her 
face  was  buried  in  the  long  thick  mane,  and  I  could  perceive  the 
tears  sparkling  like  dew-drops  over  the  tossed  hair. 

"  Poire  Lola,"  she  continued,  "  I  have  good  cause  to  grieve  • 
I  had  reason  to  love  you  well.  More  than  once  you  saved  me 
from  the  fierce  Lipan  and  the  brutal  Comanche.  What  am  I  to 
do  now  ?  I  dread  the  Indian  foray  ;  I  shall  tremble  at  every 
sign  of  the  savage.  I  dare  no  more  venture  upon  the  prairie  •, 
I  dare  not  go  abroad  ;  I  must  tamely  stay  at  home.  Mia  que- 
nda!  you  were  my  wings  :  they  are  dipped — I  fly  no  more." 

All  this  was  uttered  in  a  tone  of  extreme  bitterness  ;  and  I,  I 
who  so  loved  my  brave  steed,  could  appreciate  her  feelings. 
With  the  hope  of  imparting  eyen  a  little  consolation,  I  repeated 
my  offer. 


I6OLINA   DE   VARGAS.  37 

"  Senorita,"  I  said,  "  I  have  swift  horses  in  my  troop — some 
of  noble  race"- 

"  You  have  no  horse  in  your  troop  I  value." 

"  You  have  not  seen  them  all  ?" 

"  All — every  one  of  them — to-day,  as  you  filed  out  of  the 
city." 

"  Indeed  !" 

14  Indeed,  yes,  noble  capitan.  I  saw  yoi  as  you  carried  your 
self  so  cavalierly  at  the  head  of  your  troop  of  filibusteros — ha, 
ha,  ha  1" 

"  Senorita,  I  saw  not  you." 

"  Carrambo !  it  was  not  for  the  want  of  using  your  eyes. 
There  was  not  a  balcon  or  reja  into  which  you  did  not  glance — 
not  a  smile  in  the  whole  street  you  did  not  seem  anxious  to  reci 
procate — ha,  ha,  ha !  I  fear,  Senor  Capitan,  you  are  the  Don 
Juan  de  Tenorio  of  the  North." 

"  Lady,  it  is  not  my  character.' ' 

"  Nonsense,  you  are  proud  of  it.  I  never  saw  man  who  was 
not.  But  come  !  a  truce  to  badinage.  About  the  horse — you 
have  none  in  your  troop  I  value,  save  one" 

I  trembled  as  she  spoke. 

"  It  is  he.,"  she  continued,  pointing  to  Moro. 

I  felt  as  if  I  should  sink  into  the  earth.  My  embarrassment 
prevented  me  for  some  time  from  replying.  She  noticed  my 
hesitation,  but  remained  silent,  awaiting  my  answer. 

"  Benorita,"  I  stammered  out  at  length,  "  that  steed  is  a  great 
favorite — an  old  and  tried  friend.  //  you  desire — to  possess  him, 
he  is — he  is  at  your  service." 

In  emphasizing  the  "  if,"  I  was  appealing  to  her  generosity. 
It  was  to  no  purpose. 

"  Thank  you,"  she  replied,  coolly  ;  "  he  shall  be  well  cared  for. 
No  doubt  he  will  serve  my  purpose.  How  is  his  mouth  ?" 

I  was  choking  with  vexation,  and  could  not  reply.  I  began 
•  hate  her. 


38  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

"  Let  me  try  him,"  continued  she.  "  Ah  !  you  have  a  curb 
bit — that  will  do  ;  but  it  is  not  equal  to  ours.  I  use  a  mame- 
luke.  Help  me  to  that  lazo." 

She  pointed  to  a  lazo  of  white  horsehair,  beautifully  plaited, 
that  was  coiled  upon  the  saddle  of  the  mustang. 

I  unloosed  the  rope — mechanically  I  did — and  in  the  same  way 
adjusted  it  to  the  horn  of  my  saddle.  I  noticed  that  the  noose- 
ring  was  of  silver  !  I  shortened  the  leathers  to  the  proper  length. 

"  Now,  capitan  I"  cried  she,  gathering  the  reins  in  her  small 
gloved  hand — "  now  I  shall  see  how  he  performs." 

At  the  word,  she  bounded  into  the  saddle,  her  small  foot 
scarcely  touching  the  stirrup.  She  had  thrown  off  her  manga, 
and  her  woman's  form  was  now  displayed  in  all  its  undulating 
outlines.  The  silken  skirt  draped  down  to  her  ankles,  and  under 
neath  appeared  the  tiny  red  boot,  the  glancing  spur,  and  the 
lace  ruffle  of  her  snow-white  calzondllos.  A  scarlet  sash  bound 
her  waist,  with  its  fringed  ends  drooping  to  the  saddle  ;  and  the 
tight  bodice,  lashed  with  lace,  displayed  the  full  rounding  of  her 
bosom,  as  it  rose  and  fell  in  quiet,  regular  beating — for  she 
seemed  in  no  way  excited  or  nervous.  Her  full  round  eye 
expressed  only  calmness  and  courage. 

I  stood  transfixed  with  admiration.  I  thought  of  the  Ama 
zons  :  were  they  beautiful  like  her  ?  With  a  troop  of  such  war 
riors  one  might  conquer  a  world  I 

A  fierce-looking  bull,  moved  by  curiosity  or  otherwise,  had 
separated  from  the  herd,  and  was  seen  approaching  the  spot 
where  we  were.  This  was  just  what  the  fair  rider  wanted.  At 
a  touch  of  the  spur,  the  horse  sprang  forward,  and  galloped 
directly  for  the  bull.  The  latter,  cowed  at  the  sudden  onset, 
turned  and  ran  ;  but  his  swift  pursuer  soon  came  within  lazo 
distance.  The  noose  circled  in  the  air,  and,  launched  forward, 
was  seen  to  settle  around  the  horns  of  the  animal.  The  horse 
was  now  wheeled  round,  and  headed  in  an  opposite  direction. 
The  rope  tightened  with  a  sudden  pluck,  and  the  bull  was  throwu 


ISOLINA   DE   VAKG-A8.  39 

with  violence  on  the  plain,  where  he  lay  stunned  and  apparently 
lifeless.  Before  he  had  time  to  recover  himself,  the  rider  turned 
her  horse,  trotted  up  to  the  prostrate  animal,  bent  over  in  the 
saddle,  unfastened  the  noose,  and,  after  coiling  it  upon  her  arm, 
came  galloping  back. 

"  Superb  1-^-magnificent  !"  she  exclaimed,  leaping  from  the 
saddle,  and  gazing  at  the  steed.  "  Beautiful  I — most  beautiful  1 
Ah,  Lola,  poor  Lola  I  I  fear  I  shall  soon  forget  thee  !"  The 
last  words  were  addressed  to  the  mustang.  Then  turning  to  me, 
she  added  :  "  And  this  horse  is  mine  ?" 

'*  Yes,  lady,  if  you  will  it,"  I  replied,  somewhat  cheerlessly,  for 
I  felt  as  if  my  best  friend  was  about  to  be  taken  from  me. 

"  But  I  do  not  will  it,"  said  she,  with  an  air  of  determination ; 
and  then  breaking  into  a  laugh,  she  cried  out :  "  Ha  I  capitan, 
I  know  your  thoughts.  Think  you  I  cannot  appreciate  the 
sacrifice  you  would  make  ?  Keep  your  favorite.  Enough  that 
one  of  us  should  suffer  ;"  and  she  pointed  to  the  mustang 
"  Keep  the  brave  black  ;  you  well  know  how  to  ride  him. 
Were  he  mine,  no  mortal  could  influence  me  to  part  with  him." 

"  There  is  lut  one  who  could  influence  me." 

As  I  said  this,  I  looked  anxiously  for  the  answer.  It  was  not 
in  words  I  expected  it,  but  in  the  glance.  Assuredly  there  was 
no  frown  ;  I  even  fancied  I  could  detect  a  smile — a  blending  of 
triumph  and  satisfaction.  It  was  short-lived,  and  my  heart  fell 
again  under  her  light  laugh. 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha  1  That  one  is  of  course  your  lady-love.  Well, 
noble  capitan,  if  you  are  true  to  her,  as  to  your  brave  steed,  she 
will  have  no  cause  to  doubt  your  fealty.  I  must  leave  you 
Adios  1" 

"  Shall  I  not  be  permitted  to  accompany  you  to  your  home  ?' 

"  Gracias !  no,  senor.  I  am  at  home.  Miraf  my  father's 
house  1"  She  pointed  tc  the  hacienda.  "  Here  is  one  who  will 
look  to  the  remains  of  poor  Lola  ;"  and  she  signalled  to  a 
vaouero  at  that  moment  coming  from  the  herd.  "  Remember, 


4.0  THE    WAB-TBAIL. 

capitan,  you  are  an  euemy  ;  I  must  not  accept  your  politeness 
neither  may  I  offer  you  hospitality.     Ah  !   you  know  not  us — 
you  know  not  the  tyrant  Santa  Anna.     Perhaps  even  at  this 

moment  his  spies  are" She  glanced  suspiciously  around  as 

she  spoke.     "  O  Heavens  !"  she  exclaimed  with  a  start,  as  her 
eyes   fell   upon  the  form  of  a  man  advancing  down  the  hill 
'  Santisima  Virgen !  it  is  Ijurra  !" 

"  Ijurra  ?» 

"  Only  my  cousin  ;  but" She  hesitated,  and  then  sud 

denly  changing  to  an  expression  of  entreaty,  she  continued  : 
"  0  leave  me,  sefior  I  Por  amor  Dios !  leave  me  1  Adieu, 
adieu  !" 

Though  I  longed  to  have  a  nearer  view  ot  Ijurra,"  the  hur 
ried  earnestness  of  her  manner  overcame  me ;  and  without 
making  other  reply  than  a  simple  "  A  dios,"  I  vaulted  into  my 
saddle,  and  rode  off. 

On  reaching  the  border  of  the  woods,  curiosity — a  stronger 
feeling,  perhaps — mastered  my  politeness  ;  and,  under  the  pre 
tence  of  adjusting  my  stirrup,  I  turned  in  the  saddle,  and  glanced 
back.  Ijurra  had  arrived  upon  the  ground.  I  beheld  a  tall, 
dark  man,  dressed  in  the  usual  costume  of  the  ricos  of  Mexico  : 
dark  cloth  polka  jacket,  blue  military  trousers,  with  scarlet  sash 
around  his  waist,  and  low-crowned,  broad-brimmed  iiat  upon  hi? 
head.  He  appeared  about  thirty  years  ot  age,  whiskered, 
moustached,  and,  after  a  fashion,  handsome.  It  was  not  his 
age,  nor  his  personal  appearance,  nor  yet  his  costume,  that  had 
my  attention  at  the  moment.  I  watched  only  his  actions.  He 
stood  confronting  his  cousin,  or  rather  he  stood  over  her,  for  sho 
appeared  to  cower  before  him  in  an  attitude  of  fear  1  He  held 
a  paper  in  one  hand,  and  I  saw  he  was  pointing  to  it  as  ho 
spoke.  There  was  a  fierce,  vulture-like  expression  upon  his 
face ;  and  even  in  the  distance  I  could  tell,  from  the  tonejj 
of  his  voice,  that  he  was  talking  angrily.  Why  should  she  fear 
him  1  Why  submit  to  such  rude  rebuke  ?  He  must  have 


AN   ORDER   TO   FORAGE.  41 

a  strange  power  over  that  spirit  who  could  force  it  thus  tamely 
to  listen  to  reproach? 

These  were  my  reflections.  My  impulse  was  to  drive  the 
spurs  into  the  sides  of  my  horse,  and  gallop  back  upon  the 
ground.  I  might  have  done  so  had  the  scene  lasted  much  longer; 
but  I  saw  the  lady  suddenly  leave  the  spot,  and  walk  rapidly  in 
the  direction  of  the  hacienda. 

I  wheeled  round  again,  and  plunging  under  the  shadows  of 
the  forest,  soon  fell  into  a  road  leading  to  the  rancheria.  My 
thoughts  full  of  the  incident  that  had  just  passed,  I  rode  uncon 
sciously,  leaving  my  horse  to  his  own  guidance.  My  reverie 
was  interrupted  by  the  challenge  of  one  of  my  own  sentries, 
which  admonished  me  that  I  had  arrived  at  the  entrance  of  the 
village. 


CHAPTER    YII. 

AN     ORDER     TO      FORAGE. 

MY  adventure  did  not  end  with  the  day  ;  it  was  continued 
into  the  night,  and  repeated  in  my  dreams.  I  rode  the  chase 
over  again  ;  I  dashed  through  the  magueys,  I  leaped  the  zcquia, 
and  galloped  through  the  affrighted  herd  ;  I  beheld  the  spotted 
mustang  stretched  lifeless  upon  the  plain,  its  rider  bending  and 
weeping  over  it.  That  face  of  rare  beauty,  that  form  of  exqui 
site  proportion,  that  eye  rotund  and  noble,  that  tongue  so  free, 
and  heart  so  bold — all  were  again  encountered  in  dreamland.  A 
dark  face  was  in  the  vision,  and  at  intervals  crossed  the  picture 
like  a  cloud.  It  was  the  face  of  Ijurra. 

I  think  it  was  that  awoke  me,  but  the  reveille  of  the  bugle 
was  in  my  ears  as  I  leaped  from  my  couch. 


*2  THE    WA.K-TRAIL. 

For  some  moments  I  was  under  the  impression  that  the 
adventure  had  been  a  dream  :  an  object  that  hung  on  the  oppo 
site  wall  came  under  my  eyes,  and  recalled  the  reality — it  was 
my  saddle,  over  the  holsters  of  which  lay  a  coil  of  white  horse 
hair  rope,  with  a  silver  ring  at  the  end.  I  remembered  the 
lazo. 

When  fairly  awake,  I  reviewed  my  yesterday's  adventure 
from  first  to  last.  1  tried  to  think  calmly  upon  it  ;  I  tried  to  get 
out  of  my  thoughts,  and  return  seriously  to  my  duties.  A  vain 
attempt  !  The  more  I  reflected  upon  the  incident,  the  more  I 
became  conscious  of  the  powerful  interest  its  heroine  had  excited 
within  me.  Interest,  indeed  !  Say  rather  passion — a  passion 
that  in  one  single  hour  had  grown  as  large  as  my  heart  ! 

It  was  not  the  first  love  of  my  life.  I  was  nigh  thirty  years 
of  age.  I  had  been  enamored  before — more  than  once,  it  may 
be — and  I  understood  what  the  feeling  was.  I  needed  no  Cupid 
to  tell  me  I  was  in  love  again — to  the  very  ends  of  my  fingers. 

To  paint  the  object  of  my  passion  is  a  task  I  shall  not  attempt. 
Beauty  like  hers  must  be  left  to  the  imagination.  Think  of  the 
woman  you  yourself  love  or  have  loved  ;  fancy  her  in  her  fair 
est  moments,  in  bower  or  boudoir — perchance  a  blushing  bride 

— and  you  may  form  some  idea No,  no,  no  !  you  could 

Lever  have  looked  upon  woman  so  lovely  as  Isolina  de  Yargas. 

Oh  !  that  I  could  fix  that  fleeting  phantom  of  beauty — that 
I  couid  paint  that  likeness  for  the  world  to  admire  !  It  cannot 
be.  The  most  puissant  pen  is  powerless,  the  brightest  color  too 
cold.  Though  deeply  graven  upon  the  tablets  of  my  heart,  I 
cannot  multiply  the  impression. 

It  is  idle  to  talk  of  wavy  hair,  profuse  and  glossed — of 
almond  eyes  with  long  dark  fringes — of  pearl- white  tee.th,  and 
cheeks  tinted  with  damascene.  All  these  had  she,  but  they  are 
not  peculiar  characteristics.  Other  women  are  thus  gifted.  The 
traits  of  her  beauty  lay  in  the  intellectual  as  much  as  the  physi 
cal — in  a  happy  combination  of  both.  The  soul,  the  spirit,  had 


AN    ORDER   TO    FORAGE »  43 

its  Rhare  in  producing  this  incomparable  picture.  It  was  to 
behold  the  play  of  those  noble  features,  to  watch  the  changing 
cheek,  the  varying  smile,  the  falling  lash,  the  flashing  eye,  the 
glance  now  tender,  now  sublime — it  was  to  look  on  all  this,  to 
be  impressed  with  an  idea  of  the  diviuest  loveliness. 

******* 

As  I  ate  my  frugal  breakfast,  such  a  vision  was  passing  before 
me.  I  contemplated  the  future  with  pleasant  hopes,  but  not 
without  feelings  of  uneasiness.  I  had  not  forgotten  the  abrupt 
parting — no  invitation  to  renew  the  acquaintance,  no  hope,  no 
prospect  that  I  should  ever  behold  that  beautiful  woman  again, 
unless  blind  chance  should  prove  my  friend. 

I  am  not  a  fatalist,  and  I  therefore  resolved  not  to  rely  upon 
mere  destiny,  but,  if  possible,  to  help  it  a  little  in  its  evolution. 

Before  I  had  finished  my  coffee,  a  dozen  schemes  had  passed 
through  my  mind,  all  tending  towards  one  object — the  renewal 
of  my  acquaintance  with  Isolina  de  "Vargas.  Unless  favored  by 
some  lucky  accident,  or,  what  was  more  desirable,  by  the  lady 
herself,  I  knew  we  might  never  meet  again.  In  such  times,  it 
was  not  likely  she  would  be  much  "  out  of  doors  ;"  and  in  a  few 
days,  hours  perhaps,  /  might  be  ordered  en  route  never  more  to 
return  to  that  interesting  outpost.  As  the  district  was,  of 
course,  under  martial  law,  and  I  was  de  facto  dictator,  you  will 
imagine  that  I  might  easily  procure  the  right  of  entry  anywhere. 
Not  so.  Whatever  be  the  license  of  the  rude  soldier  as  regards 
the  common  people  of  a  conquered  country,  the  position  of  the 
officer  with  its  higher  class  is  essentially  different.  If  a  gentle 
man,  he  naturally  feels  a  delicacy  in  making  any  advances 
towards  an  acquaintance  ;  and  his  honor  restrains  him  from  th 
freer  forms  of  introduction.  To  take  advantage  of  his  position 
of  power  would  be  a  positive  meanness,  of  which  a  true  gentle 
man  cannot  be  guilty.  Besides,  there  may  be  rancour  on  the 
part  of  the  conquered — there  usually  is  ;  but  even  when  no 
feeling  exists,  another  barrier  stands  n  the  way  of  free  asso* 


44  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

ciation  between  the  officer  and  "  society."  The  latter  feels  that 
the  position  of  affairs  will  not  be  permanent  ;  the  enemy  will  in 
time  evacuate,  and  then  the  vengeance  of  mob-patriotism  is  tc 
be  dreaded.  Never  did  the  ricos  of  Mexico  feel  more  secure 
than  while  under  the  protection  of  the  American  army.  Many 
of  them  were  disposed  to  be  friendly,  but  the  phantom  of  the 
future,  with  its  mob  tmeutes,  stared  them  in  the  face,  and  under 
this  dread  they  were  forced  to  adopt  a  hypocritical  exclusiveness. 
Epaulettes  must  not  be  seen  glancing  through  the  windows  of 
their  drawing-rooms  I 

Under  such  circumstances,  my  situation  was  difficult  enough. 
I  might  gaze  upon  the  outside  walls  of  that  handsome  hacienda 
till  my  heart  ached,  but  how  was  I  to  effect  an  entrance  ? 

To  charge  a  fort,  a  battery,  an  intrenched  camp — to  storm  a 
castle,  or  break  a  solid  square — one  or  all  would  have  been  child's 
play  compared  with  the  difficulty  of  crossing  that  glacial  line  of 
etiquette  that  separated  me  from  my  beautiful  enemy. 

To  effect  this  purpose,  a  dozen  schemes  were  passed  through 
my  mind,  and  rejected,  till  my  eyes  at  length  rested  upon  the 
most  interesting  object  in  the  apartment — the  little  white  rope 
that  hung  upon  my  saddle-bow.  In  the  lazo,  I  recognized  my 
'  forlorn-hope.'  That  pretty  implement  must  be  returned  to  its 
owner.  I  myself  should  take  it  home  I  So  far  destiny  should  be 
guided  by  me  ;  beyond,  I  should  have  to  put  my  trust  in  destiny. 

I  think  best  under  the  influence  of  a  cigar  ;  and  lighting  one, 
I  ascended  to  the  azotea,  to  complete  my  little  scheme. 

I  had  scarcely  made  two  turns  of  the  roof,  when  a  horseman 
galloped  into  the  plaza.  He  was  in  dragoon  uniform,  and  I  saw 
he  was  an  orderly  from  head-quarters,  and  inquiring  for  the  com 
mander  of  the  outpost.  One  of  the  men  pointed  to  me  ;  and  the 
orderly  trotting  forward,  drew  up  in  front  of  the  alcalde's  house, 
and  announced  to  me  that  he  was^the  bearer  of  a  dispatch  from 
the  general-in-chief,  at  the  same  time  showing  a  folded  paper.  1 
directed  him  to  pass  it  up  on  the  point  of  his  sabre,  which  he  iidj 


AN    OKDER    TO   FOBAGE.  4:5 

4^4  then  saluting  me,  he  turned  his  horse  and  galloped  back  as 
ho  had  come. 

\  opened  the  dispatch,  and  read: 

"  HEAD-QUARTERS,  ARMY  OF  OCCUPATION, 
July  —lht  1846. 

"  SIR — You  will  take  a  sufficient  number  of  your  men,  and  pro- 
ce&J  to  the  hacienda  of  Don  Ramon  de  Yargas,  in  the  neigh 
borhood  of  your  station.  You  will  there  find  5,000  head  ol 
beeves,  which  you  will  cause  to  be  driven  to  the  camp  of  the 
Anwrican  army,  and  delivered  to  the  commissary-general.  You 
wilj  find  the  necessary  drivers  upon  the  ground,  and  a  portion  of 
youx"  troop  will  form  the  escort.  The  enclosed  note  will  enable 
you  ;O  understand  the  nature  of  your  duty. 


•CAPTAIN  WABHRLD."  "A.  A.  Adjutant-general." 

'*  Surely,"  thought  I,  as  I  finished  reading — "  surely  there  is  a 
"  Pi  evidence  that  shapes  our  ends."  Just  as  I  was  cudgelling 
my  drains  for  some  scheme  of  introduction  to  Don  Ramon  de 
Vai$as,  here  comes  one  ready  fashioned  to  my  hand." 

I  thought  no  more  about  the  lazo  :  the  rope  was  no  longer  an 
object  of  prime  interest.  Trimmed  and  embellished  with  the 
graceful  excuse  of  "  duty,"  I  should  now  ride  boldly  up  to  the 
hacienda,  and  enter  its  gates  with  the  confident  air  of  a  welcome 
guect.  Welcome  indeed  !  A  contract  for  5000  beeves,  and  at 
war-prices  !  A  good  stroke  of  business  on  the  part  of  the  old 
Don.  Of  course,  I  shall  see  him — "  embrace  him" — hobnob  with 
him  over  a  glass  of  Canario  or  Xeres — get  upon  the  most  inti 
mate  terms,  and  so  be  "  asked  back/'  I  am  usually  popular  with 
old  gentlemen,  and  I  trusted  to  my  bright  star  to  place  me  en 
rapport  with  Don  Ramon  de  Yargas.  The  coralling  of  the  cattle 
would  occupy  some  time— a  brace  of  hours  at  the  least.  That 
would  be  outside  work,  and  I  could  intrust  it  to  my  lieutecant 
or  a  sergeant.  For  myself,  I  was  determined  to  stay  by  the 


46  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

walls.  The  Don  must  go  out  to  look  after  ms  vaqueros.  It 
would  be  rude  to  leave  me  alone.  He  would  introduce  me  to 
his  daughter — he  could  not  do  less  :  a  customer  on  so  large  a 

scale  !  We  should  be  left  to  ourselves,  and  then Ha  !  Ijur- 

ra  !  I  had  forgotten  him.  Would  he  be  there  ? 

The  recollection  of  this  man  fell  like  a  shadow  over  the  bright 
fancies  I  had  conjured  up. 

A  dispatch  from  head-quarters  calls  for  prompt  attention,  and 
my  reflections  were  cut  short, by  the  necessity  of  carrying  the 
order  into  execution.  Without  loss  of  time,  I  issued  orders  foi 
about  fifty  of  the  rangers  to  "  boot  and  saddle.1' 

I  was  about  to  give  more  than  ordinary  attention  to  my  toilet, 
when  it  occurred  to  me  I  might  as  well  first  read  the  "  note'' 
referred  to  in  the  dispatch.  I  opened  the  paper  ;  to  my  surprise, 
the  document  was  in  Spanish.  This  did  not  puzzle  me,  and  I 
read  : 

"  The  5000  beeves  are  ready  for  you,  according  to  the  contract, 
but  /cannot  take  upon  me  to  deliver  them.  They  must  betaken 
from  me  with  show  of  force  ;  and  even  a  little  rudeness  on  the  part 
of  tkose  you  send  would  not  be  out  of  place.  My  vaqueros  are 
at  your  service,  but  7  must  not  command  them.  You  may  press 

them. 

"RAMON  DE  VARGAS." 

This  note  was  addressed  to  the  commissary-general  of  the  Ameri 
can  army.  Its  meaning,  though  to  the  uninitiated  a  little  ob 
scure,  was  to  me  as  clear  as  noonday  ;  and  although  it  gave  me 
a  high  opinion  of  the  administrative  talents  of  Don  Ramon  de 
Yargas,  it  was  by  no  means  a  welcome  document.  It  rendered 
null  every  act  of  the  fine  programme  I  had  sketched  out.  By  its 
directions,  there  was  to  be  no  "  embracing,"  no  hobnobbing  over 
wine,  no  friendly  chat  with  the  Don,  no  tett-a-tete  with  his  beauti 
ful  daughter — no  ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  I  was  to  ride  up  with 
a  swagger,  bang  the  doors,  threaten  the  trembling  porter,  kick 


AN    ORDER   TO    FORAGE.  47 

the  peons,  and  demand  from  their  master  5000  head  of  beef-cat* 
tie — all  in  true  freebooting  style  ! 

A  nice  figure  I  shall  cut,  thought  I,  in  the  eyes  of  Isolina  ; 
but  a  little  reflection  convinced  me  that  that  intelligent  creature 
would  be  in  the  secret.  Yes,  she  will  understand  my  motives, 
I  can  act  with  as  much  mildness  as  circumstances  will  permit. — 
My  Texan  lieutenant  will  do  the  kicking  of  the  peons,  and  that 
without  much  pressing.  If  she  be  not  cloistered,  I  will  have  a 
glimpse  at  her  ;  so  here  goes.  "  To  Horse  /" 

The  bugle  gave  the  signal  ;  fifty  rangers — with  Lieutenants 
llolingsworth  and  Wheatley — leaped  into  their  saddles,  and  next 
moment  were  filing  by  twos  from  the  plaza,  myself  at  their  head. 

A  twenty  minutes'  trot  brought  us  to  the  front  gate  of  the 
hacienda,  where  we  halted.  The  great  door,  massive  and  jail- 
like,  was  closed,  locked,  and  barred  ;  the  shutters  of  the  windows 
as  well.  Not  a  soul  was  to  be  seen  outside,  not  even  the  ap 
parition  of  a  frightened  peon.  I  had  given  my  Texan  lieutenant 
his  cue  ;  he  knew  enough  of  Spanish  for  the  purpose. 

Flinging  himself  out  of  the  saddle,  he  approached  the  gate,, 
and  commenced  hammering  upon  it  with  the  butt  of  his  pistol. 

"  Ambre  la  puerta  /"    (Open  the  door  !)  cried  he. 

No  answer. 

11  La  puerta — la  puerta  /"  he  repeated  in  a  louder  ton<\  Still 
no  answer. 

"  Ambre  la  puerta  /"  once  more  vociferated  the  lieutenant,  at 
the  same  time  thundering  on  the  woodwork  with  his  weapon. 

When  the  noise  ceased,  a  faint  "  Quien  es  ?"  (Who  is  it  ?)  was 
heard  from  within. 

"  Yo  /"  hawled  Wheatley,  "  ambre !  ambre .'" 

"  Si,  senor"  answered  the  voice,  in  a  somewhat  tremulous  key. 

"Anda!  anda  !  Somos  hombres  de  bien"  (Quick  then  1  We 
are  honest  men.) 

A  rattling  of  chains  and  shooting  of  bolts  now  commenced, 
and  lasted  for  at  least  a  couple  of  minutes,  at  the  end  of  whic*» 


4:8  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

time  the  great  folding-doors  opened  inward,  displaying  to  view 
the  swarthy  leather-clad  porter  o,  the  brick-paved  saguan,  and  a 
portion  of  the  patio,  or  courtyard  within. 

As  soon  as  the  door  was  fairly  open,  Wheatley  made  a  rnsh  at 
the  trembling  porter,  caught  him  by  the  jerkin,  boxed  both  his 
ears,  and  then  commanded  him,  in  a  loud  voice,  to  summon  the 
dueno !  This  conduct,  somewhat  unexpected  on  the  part  of  the 
rangers,  seemed  to  be  just  to  their  taste  ;  and  I  could  hear  be 
hind  me  the  whole  troop  chuckling  in  half-suppressed  laughter. 
Guerilleros  as  they  were,  they  hadnnver  been  allowed  much 
license  in  their  dealings  with  the  inhabitants — the  non-combatants 
— of  the  country,  and  much  less  had  they  witnessed  such  con 
duct  on  the  part  of  their  officers.  Indeed,  it  was  cause  of  com 
plaint  in  the  ranks  of  the  American  army,  and  with  many  officers 
too,  that  even  hostile  Mexicans  were  treated  with  a  lenient 
consideration  denied  to  themselves.  Wheatley's  behaviour, 
therefore,  touched  a  chord  in  the  hearts  of  our  following,  that 
vibrated  pleasantly  enough  ;  they  began  to  believe  that  the  cam 
paign  was  about  to  become  a  little  more  jolly. 

"Senor,"  stammered  the  porter,  "the  du — du — dueno  has  given 
or — orders — he  wi — wi — will  not  s — see  any  one." 

"  Will  not  !"  echoed  Wheatley  ;   "  go,  tell  him  he  must  /" 

"  Yes.  amigo,"  I  said  soothingly ;  for  I  began  to  fear  the  man 
would  be  too  badly  frightened  to  deliver  his  message.  "  Go,  say 
to  your  master  that  an  American  officer  has  business  with  him. 
and  must  see  him  immediately." 

The  man  went  off,  after  a  little  more  persuasion  from  the  free 
hand  of  Wheatley,  of  course  leaving  the  gates  open  behind  him. 

We  did  not  wait  for  his  return.  The  patio  looked  inviting  ; 
and  directing  Holingaworth  to  remain  outside  with  the  men,  and 
the  Texan  lieutenant  to  follow  me,  I  headed  my  horse  for  the 
great  archway,  and  rode  in. 


DON    RAMON.  49 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

DON      RAMON. 

ON  entering  the  courtyard,  a  somewhat  novel  scene  presented 
itself — a  Spanish  picture,  with  some  transatlantic  touches.  The 
patio  of  a  Mexican  house  is  its  proper  front.  Here  you  no 
longer  look  upon  jail-like  doors  and  windows,  but  facades  gaily 
frescoed,  curtained  verandahs,  and  glazed  sashes  that  reach  to 
the  ground.  The  patio  of  Don  Ramon's  mansion  was  paved 
with  brick.  A  fountain,  with  its  tank  of  japanned  mason- work, 
stood  in  the  centre  ;  orange-trees  stretched  their  fronds  over 
the  water  :  their  golden  globes  and  white  wax-like  flowers  per 
fumed  the  atmosphere,  which,  cooled  by  the  constant  evapora 
tion  of  the  jet  d'eau,  felt  fresh  and  fragrant.  Round  three  sides 
of  the  court  extended  a  verandah,  its  floor  of  painted  tiles  ris 
ing  but  a  few  inches  above  the  level  of  the  paved  court.  A  row 
of  portales  supported  the  roof  of  this  verandah,  and  the  whole 
corridor  was  railed  in,  and  curtained.  The  curtains  were  close- 
drawn,  and  except  at  one  point — the  entrance  between  two  of 
the  portales — the  corridor  was  completely  screened  from  our 
view,  and  consequently  all  the  windows  of  the  house,  which 
opened  into  the  verandah.  No  human  face  greeted  our  searching 
glances.  In  looking  to  the  rear,  into  the  great  corral,  or  cattle- 
yard,  we  could  see  numerous  peons  in  their  brown  leathern 
dresses,  with  naked  legs  and  sandalled  feet  ;  vaqueros  in  all  their 
grandeur  of  velveteens,  belt-buttons,  and  gold  or  silver  lace  ; 
with  a  number  of  women  and  young  girls  in  colored  nagnas  and 
rebosos.  A  busy  scene  was  presented  in  that  quarter.  It  was 
the  great  cattle  enclosure,  for  the  estate  of  Don  Ramon  de 

3 


THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

Vargas  was  a  ha,de.nda  de  ganados,  or  grand  cattle-farm — a  title 
which  in  no  way  detracts  from  the  presumed  respectability  ot  its 
owner,  many  of  the  noble  hidalgos  of  Mexico  being  only  graziers 
on  a  large  scale. 

On  entering  the  patio,  I  only  glanced  back  at  the  corral  ;  my 
eyes  were  busy  with  the  curtained  verandah,  and,  failing  there, 
were  carried  up  to  the  azotea,  in  hopes  of  discovering  the  object 
of  my  thoughts.  The  house,  as  I  have  elsewhere  stated,  was 
but  a  single  story  in  height,  and  from  the  saddle,  I  could  almost, 
look  into  the  azotea.  I  could  see  that  it  was  a  sanctuary  of 
rare  plants,  and  the  broad  leaves  and  bright  corollas  of  some  of 
the  taller  ones  appeared  over  the  edge  of  the  parapet.  Abun 
dance  of  fair  flowers  I  could  perceive,  but  not  that  for  which  I 
was  looking.  No  face  yet  showed,  no  voice  greeted  us  with  a 
welcome.  The  shouts  of  the  vaqueros,  the  music  of  singing-birds 
caged  along  the  corridor,  and  the  murmur  of  the  fountain,  were 
the  only  sounds.  The  two  former  suddenly  became  hushed,  as 
the  hoofs  of  our  horses  rang  upon  the  stone  pavement,  and  the 
heedless  water  alone  continued  to  utter  its  soft  monotone.  Once 
more  my  eyes  swept  the  curtain,  gazing  intently  into  the  few 
apertures  left  by  a  careless  draping  ;  once  more  they  sought  the 
azotea,  and  glanced  along  the  parapet  :  my  scrutiny  stiil  re 
mained  unrewarded. 

Without  exchanging  a  word,  Wheatley  and  I  sat  silent  in  our 
saddles-,  awaiting  the  return  of  the  portero.  Already  the 
peons,  vaqueros,  and  wenches  had  poured  in  through  the  back 
gateway,  and  stood  staring  with  astonishment  at  the  unexpected 
guests.  After  a  considerable  pause,  the  tread  of  feet  was  heard 
upon  the  corridor,  and  presently  the  messenger  appeared,  and 
announced  that  the  dueno  was  coming.  In  a  minute  after,  one 
of  the  curtains  was  drawn  back,  and  an  old  gentleman  made  his 
appearance  behind  the  railing.  He  was  a  person  of  large  frame, 
and  although  slightly  stooping  with  age,  his  step  was  firm,  and 
his  whole  aspect  bespoke  a  wonderful  energy  and  resolution 


DON    RAMON.  51 

His  eyes  were  large  and  brilliant,  shadowed  by  heavy  brows, 
npon  which  the  hair  still  retained  its  dark  color,  although  that 
of  his  head  was  white  as  snow.  He  was  simply  habited—in  a 
jacket  of  nankeen  cloth,  and  wide  trousers  of  like  material.  He 
wore  neither  waistcoat  nor  cravat.  A  full  white  shirt  of  finest 
linen  covered  his  breast,  and  a  sash  of  dull  blue  color  was  twisted 
round  his  waist.  On  his  head  was  a  costly  hat  of  the  "  Guay 
aquil  grass,"  and  in  his  fingers  a  husk  cigarrito,  smoking  at  the 
end. 

Altogether,  the  aspect  of  Don  Ramon — for  it  was  he — despito 
its  assumed  sternness,  was  pleasing  and  intelligent ;  and  I  should 
have  relished  a  friendly  chat  with  him,  even  upon  his  own 
account. 

This,  however,  was  out  of  the  question.  I  must  abide  by  the 
gpirit  of  my  orders;  the  farce  must  be  played  out  ;  so,  touching 
the  flanks  of  my  horse,  I  rode  forward  to  the  edge  of  the  veran 
dah,  and  placed  myself  vis-a-vis  to  the  Don. 

"  Are  you  Don  Ramon  de  Vargas  ?" 

"Si,  senor,"  was  the  reply,  in  a  tone  of  angry  astwnish- 
ment. 

"  I  am  an  officer  of  the  American  army" — I  spoke  loud,  and 
in  Spanish,  of  course,  for  the  benefit  of  the  peons  and  vaqueros. 
"  I  am  sent  to  offer  you  a  contract  to  supply  the  army  with 
beeves.  I  have  here  an  order  from  the  general-in-chief " 

"  I  have  no  beeves  for  sale,"  interrupted  Don  Ramon  in  a  loud 
indignant  voice.;  "  I  shall  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  American 
army." 

'*  Then,  sir,"  retorted  I,  "  I  must  take  your  beeves  without 
your  consent.  You  will  be  paid  for  them,  but  take  them  I 
must  ;  my  orders  require  that  I  should  do  so.  Moreover,  your 
vaqueros  must  accompany  us,  and  drive  the  cattle  to  the  Ameri 
can  camp." 

As  I  said  this,  I  signalled  to  Holingsworth,  who  rode  in  with 
ais  following  ;  and  then  the  whole  troop,  filing  through  the  back 


52  THE    WAB-TEAIL. 

gateway,  began  to  collect  the  frightened  vaqueros,  and  set  them 
about  their  work. 

"  I  protest  against  this  robbery!"  shouted  Don  Ramon.  "  It 
is  infamous — contrary  to  the  laws  of  civilized  warfare.  I  shall 
appeal  to  my  government — to  yours — I  shall  have  redress." 

"  You  shall  have  payment,  Don  Ramon,"  said  I,  apparently 
trying  to  pacify  him. 

''Payment,  carrambo !  —  payment  from  robbers,  filibus 
ters  " 

"  Come',  come,  old  gentleman  !"  cried  Wheatley,  who  was 
only  half  behind  the  scenes,  and  who  spoke  rather  in  earnest, 
"  keep  a  good  tongue  .in  your  head,  or  you  may  lose  something 
of  more  value  to  you  than  your  cattle.  Remember  whom  you 
are  talking  to." 

"  Tejanos !  ladrones !"  hissed  Don  Ramon,  with  an  earnest  ap 
plication  of  the  latter  phrase  that  would  certainly  have  brought 
Wheatley's  revolver  from  his  belt,  had  I  not,  at  the  moment, 
whispered  a  word  in  the  lieutenant's  ear. 

"  Hang  the  old  rascal  !"  muttered  he,  in  reply  to  me  ;  "I 
thought  he  was  in  earnest.  Look  here,  old  fellow  !"  he  con 
tinued,  addressing  himself  to  Don  Ramon,  "  don't  you  be  scared 
about  the  dollars.  Uncle  Sam's  a  liberal  trader  and  a  good 
paymaster.  I  wish  your  beef  was  mine,  and  I  had  his  promise 
to  pay  for  it.  So  take  things  a  little  easier,  if  you  please  ;  and 
don't  be  so  free  of  your  ' filibusteros'  and  'ladrones:'  freeborn 
Texans  ain't  used  to  such  talk." 

Don  Ramon  suddenly  cut  short  the  colloquy  by  angrily  clos 
ing  the  curtains,  and  hiding  himself  from  our  sight. 

During  the  whole  scene,  I  had  great  difficulty  in  controlling 
my  countenance.  I  could  perceive  that  the  Mexican  labored 
under  a  similar  difficulty.  There  was  a  laughing  devil  in  the 
corner  of  his  keen  eye  that  required  restraint  ;  and  I  thought 
once  or  twice  either  he  or  I  should  lose  our  equanimity,  /cer 
tainly  should  have  done  so,  but  that  my  heart  and  eyes  wera 


UN    PAPELCITO.  53 

most  of  the  time  in  other  quarters.  As  for  the  Don,  he  was 
playing  an  important  part ;  and  a  suspicion  of  his  hypocrisy,  on 
the  minds  of  some  of  the  leathern-clad  greasers  who  listened  to 
the  dialogue,  might  have  afterwards  brought  him  to  trouble. 
Most  of  them  were  his  own  domestics  and  retainers,  but  not  all. 
There  were  free  rancheros  among  them — some  who  belonged  to 
the  pueblita  itself — some,  perchance,  who  had  figured  in  pronun- 
ciamentos — who  voted  at  elections,  and  called  themselves  citizens. 
The  Don,  therefore,  had  good  reasons  for  assuming  a  character; 
and  well  did  the  old  gentleman  sustain  it. 

As  he  drew  the  curtain,  his  half-whispered  "  Adios,  capitan  !" 
heard  only  by  myself,  sounded  full  of  sweetness  and  promise; 
and  1  felt  rather  contented  as  I  straightened  myself  in  the  sad 
dle,  and  issued  the  order  for  rieving  his  cattle. 


CHAPTER     IX. 


WHEATLEY  now  rode  after  the  troop,  which  with  Holingsworth 
had  already  entered  the  corral.  A  band  of  drivers  was  speedily 
pressed  into  service;  and  with  these  the  two  lieutenants  proceeded 
to  the  great  plain  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  where  most  of  Don 
Ramon's  catMe  were  at  pasture.  By  this  arrangement  I  was  left 
alone,  if  I  except  the  company  of  half-a-dozen  slippered  wenches, 
the  deities  of  the  cocina,  who,  clustered  in  the  corner  of  the  patio, 
eyed  me  with  mingled  looks  of  curiosity  and  fear.  The  verandah 
curtains  remained  hermetically  closed,  and  though  I  glanced  at 
every  aperture  that  offered  a  chance  to  an  observing  eye,  no  one 
appeared  to  be  stirring  behind  them. 

"  Too  high-bred — perhaps  indifferent  ?"  thought  I.     The  latter 


5±  THE   WAB-TRAIL. 

supposition  was  by  no  means  gratifying  to  my  vanity.  "  After 
all,  now  that  the  others  are  gone  out  of  the  way,  Don  Ramon 
might  ask  me  to  step  inside.  Ah  !  no — these  n.estizo  women 
would  tell  tales  :  I  perceive  it  would  never  do.  I  may  as  welj 
give  it  up.  I  shall  ride  out,  and  join  the  troop." 

As  I  turned  my  horse  to  put  this  design  into  execution,  the 
fountain  came  under  my  eyes.  Its  water  reminded  me  that  I 
was  thirsty,  for  it  was  a  July  day,  and  a  hot  one.  A  gourd  cup 
lay  on  the  edge  of  the  tank.  Without  dismounting,  I  was  able 
to  lay  hold  of  the  vessel,  and  filling  it  with  the  cool  sparkling 
liquid,  I  drained  it  off.  It-was  very  good  water,  but  not  Canario 
or  Xeres. 

Sweeping  the  curtain  once  more,  I  turned  with  a  disappointed 
glance,  and  jagging  my  horse,  rode  doggedly  out  through  the 
back  gateway.  Once  in  the  rear  of  the  buildings,  I  had  a  full 
view  of  the  great  meadow  already  known  to  me  ;  and  pulling  up, 
I  sat  in  the  saddle,  and  watched  the  animated  scene  that  was 
there  being  enacted.  Bulls,  half  wild,  rushing  to  and  fro  in  mad 
fury  ;  vaqueros  mounted  on  their  light  mustangs,  with  streaming 
sash  and  winding  lazo  ;  rangers  upon  their  heavier  steeds,  offer 
ing  but  a  clumsy  aid  to  the  more  adroit  and  practised  herdsmen  ; 
others  driving  off  large  groups  that  had  been  already  collected 
ao'i  brought  into  subjection  :  and  all  this  amidst  the  fierce  bel- 
'»:  wings  of  the  bulls,  the  shouts  and  laughter  of  the  delighted 
troopers,  the  shriller  cries  of  the  vaqueros  and  peons.  The 
whole  formed  a  picture  that,  under  other  circumstances,  I  should 
have  contemplated  with  interest.  Just  then,  my  spirits  were  not 
attuned  to  its  enjoyment,  and  although  I  remained  for  some 
minutes  with  my  eyes  fixed  upon  it,  my  thoughts  wandered  else 
where. 

I  confess  to  a  strong  faith  in  woman's  curiosity.  That  suoh  a 
scene  could  be  passing  under  the  windows  of  the  most  aristocratic 
mansion,  without  its  most  aristocratic  inmate  deigning  to  take  a 
peep  at  it,  I  could  not  believe.  Besides,  Isolina  was  the  very 


UN  PAPELcrro.  55 

rerc.rse.  "  Ha  !  Despite  that  jealous  curtain,  those  beautiful 
eyes  are  glancing  through  some  aperture — window  or  loophole. 
I  doubt  not  ;"  and  with  this  reflection,  I  once  more  turned  my 
face  to  the  buildings. 

Just  then,  it  occurred  to  me  that  I  had  not  sufficiently  recon 
noitred  the  front  of  the  dwelling.  As  we  approached  it,  we  had 
observed  that  the  shutters  of  the  windows  were  closed  ;  but 
these  opened  inward,  and  since  that  time  one  or  other  of  them 
might  have  been  set  a  little  ajar.  From  my  knowledge  of  Mexi 
can  interiors,  I  knew  that  these  front  windows  were  those  of  the 
principal  apartments — of  the  sola,  and  grand  cuarto,  or  draw 
ing-room — precisely  those  where  the  iamates  at  that  hour  should 
be  found. 

"  Fool  !"  thought  I,  "  to  have  remained  so  long  in  the  patio. 

Had  I  gone  round  to  the  front  windows  I  might  have 'Tis 

not  too  late — there's  a  chance  yet." 

Under  the  impulse  of  this  new  hope,  I  rode  back  through  the 
corral,  and  re-entered  the  patio.  The  brown-skinned  mestizas 
were  still  there,  chattering  and  flurried  as  ever,  and  the  curtain 
had  not  been  stirred.  A  glance  at  it  was  all  I  gave  ;  and  with 
out  stopping,  I  walked  my  horse  across  the  paved  court,  and 
entered  under  the  arched  saguan.  The  massive  gate  stood  open, 
as  we  had  left  it  ;  and  on  looking  into  the  little  box  of  the  portero, 
I  perceived  that  it  was  empty.  The  man  had  hid  himself,  in  dread 
of  a  second  interview  with  the  Texan  lieutenant  ! 

In  another  moment,  I  had  emerged  from  the  gateway,  and  was 
about  turning  rny  horse  to  inspect  the  windows,  when  I  heard 
the  word  "  Capitan,"  pronounced  in  a  voice  that  sounded  soft  as 
a  silver  bell,  and  thrilled  to  my  heart  like  a  strain  of  music. 

I  looked  towards  the  windows.  It  came  not  thence  ;  they 

were  close  shut  as  ever.  Whence Before  I  had  time  to 

ask  myself  the  question,  the  "  Capitan"  was  repeated  in  a  some 
what  louder  key,  and  I  now  perceived  that  the  voico  proceeded 
fcbore— from  the  azotea. 


56  THE    WAB-TKAIL. 

I  wrenched  my  horse  round,  at  the  same  time  turning  my  eyes 
upward.  I  could  see  no  one  ;  but  just  at  that  moment  au  arm, 
that  might  have  been  attached  to  the  bust  of  Venus,  was  pro 
truded  through  a  notch  in  the  parapet.  In  the  small  hand, 
wickedly  sparkling  with  jewels,  was  something  white,  which  1 
could  not  distinguish  until  I  saw  it  projected  on  the  grass — at 
the  same  moment  that  the  phrase  "  Un  papelcito"  reached  my 
ears. 

Without  hesitation  I  dismounted — made  myself  master  of  the 
papelcito ;  and  then  leaping  once  more  into  the  saddle,  looked 
upward.  I  had  purposely  drawn  my  horse  some  distance  from 
the  walls,  so  that  I  might  Command  a  better  view.  I  was  not 
disappointed — Isolina  I  The  face,  that  lovely  face,  was  just  dis 
tinguishable  through  the  slender  embrasure,  the  large  brown  eyes 
gazing  upon  me  with  that  half-earnest,  half-mocking  glance  I  had 
already  noticed,  and  which  produced  within  me  both  pleasure 
aud  pain  1 

I  was  about  to  speak  to  her,  when  I  saw  the  expression  sudden 
ly  change  ;  a  hurried  glance  was  thrown  backwards,  as  if  the 
approach  of  some  one  disturbed  her  ;  a  finger  rested  momentarily 
on  her  lips,  and  then  her  face  disappeared  behind  the  screening 
wall  of  the  parapet.  I  understood  the  universal  sign,  and  re 
mained  silent. 

For  some  moments  I  was  undecided  whether  to  go  or  stay. — 
She  had  evidently  withdrawn  from  the  front  of  the  building, 
though  she  was  still  upon  the  azotea.  Some  one  had  joined  her  ; 
and  I  could  hear  voices  in  conversation  ;  her  own  contrasting  with 
the  harsher  tones  of  a  man.  Perhaps  her  father — perhaps — 
that  other  relative — less  agreeable  supposition  ! 

I  was  about  to  ride  off,  when  it  occurred  to  me  that  I  had  bet 
ter  first  master  the  contents  <f  the  "papelcito."  Perhaps  it 
might  throw  some  light  on  the  situation,  and  enable  me  to  adopt 
the  more  pleasant  alternative  of  remaining  a  while  longer  upon 
the  premises.  I  had  thrust  tiic  Lillet  into  the  breast  of  my  frock  ; 


UN   PAPELCITO. 

and  now  looked  aronnd  for  some  place  where  I  might  draw  it 
forth  arid  peruse  it  unobserved.  The  great  arched  gateway, 
shadowy  and  tenantless,  offered  the  desired  accommodation  ;  and 
heading  my  horse  to  it,  I  once  more  rode  inside  the  saguan. 
Facing  around  so  as  to  hide  my  front  from  the  cocineras,  I  drew 
forth  the  strip  of  folded  paper,  and  spread  it  open  before  me. 
Though  written  in  pencil,  and  evidently  in  a  hurried  impromptu,  I 
had  no  difficulty  in  deciphering  it.  My  heart  throbbed  exultiugly 
as  I  read  : 

"  Capitan  !  I  know  you  will  pardon  our  dry  hospitality  !  A 
cup  of  cold  water — ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  Remember  what  I  told  you 
yesterday  :  we  fear  our  friends  more  than  OUT  foes,  and  we  have 
a  guest  in  the  house  my  father  dreads  more  than  you  and  your  terri 
ble  filibusters.  I  am  not  angry  with  you  for  my  pet,  but  you 
have  carried  off  my  lazo  as  well.  Ah,  capitan  !  would  you  rob 
me  of  everything  ? — Adios  !  ISOLINA." 

Thrusting  the  paper  back  into  my  bosom,  I  sat  for  some  time 
pondering  upon  its  contents.  Part  was  clear  enough — the  re 
maining  part  full  of  mystery. 

"  We  fear  OUT  friends  more  than  OUT  foes."  I  was  behind  the 
scenes  sufficiently  to  comprehend  what  was  intended  by  that 
cunningly  worded  phrase.  It  simply  meant  that  Don  Ramon  de 
Vargas  was  Ayankieado — in  other  words,  a  friend  to  the  Ameri 
can  cause,  or,  as  some  loud  demagogues  would  have  pronounced 
him,  a  "  traitor  to  his  country."  It  did  not  follow,  however, 
that  he  was  anything  of  the  kind.  He  might  have  wished  suc 
cess  to  the  American  arms,  and  still  remained  a  true  friend  to 
his  country — not  one  of  those  blind  bigots  whose  standard  dis 
plays  the  brigand  motto,  "  Our  country  right  or  wrong,"  but  an 
enlightened  patriot,  who  desired  more  to  sae  Mexico  enjoy  peace 
and  happiness  under  foreign  domination,  than  that  it  should  con* 
timie  in  anarchy  under  the  iron  rule  of  native  despots.  What 
is  there  in  the  empty  title  of  independence,  without  peace,  without 


THE    WAR-TEAIL. 

liberty  ?  After  all,  patriotism  iu  its  ordinary  sense  is  but  & 
doubtful  virtue — perhaps  nearer  to  a  crime  !  It  will  one  day 
appear  so  ;  one  day  in  the  far  future  it  will  be  supplanted  by  a 
virtue  of  higher  order — the  patriotism  that  knows  no  boundaries 
of  nations,  but  whose  country  is  the  whole  earth.  That,  however, 
would  not  be  "  patriotism  1" 

Was  Don  Ramon  de  Yargas  a  patriot  in  this  sense — a  man  of 
progress,  who  cared  not  that  the  name  of  "  Mexico  "  should  be 
blotted  from  the  map,  so  long  as  peace  and  prosperity  should  be 
given  to  his  country  under  another  name  ?  Was  Don  Ramon 
one  of  these  ?  It  might  be.  There  were  many  such  in  Mexico 
at  that  time,  and  these  principally  of  the  class  to  which  Senor 
de  Vargas  belonged — the  ricos,  or  proprietors.  It  is  easy  enough 
to  explain  why  the  Ayankieados  were  of  the  class  of  ricos. 

Perhaps  the  affection  of  Don  Ramon  for  the  American  cause 
had  less  lofty  motives  ;  perhaps  the  5000  beeves  may  have  had 
something  to  do  with  it  ?  Whether  or  no,  I  could  not  tell  ;  nor 
did  I  stay  to  consider.  I  only  reflected  upon  the  matter  at 
all  as  offering  an  explanation  to  the  ambiguous  phrase  now 
twice  used  by  his  fair  daughter — "  We  fear  our  friends  more 
than  our  foes.7'  On  either  supposition,  the  meaning  was  clear. 

What  followed  was  far  from  equally  perspicuous.  A  guest  in 
the  house  dreaded  by  her  father!  Here  was  mystery  indeed. 
W"ho  could  that  guest  be  ? — Who  but  Ijurra ! 

But  Ijurra  was  her  cousin — she  had  said  so.  If  a  cousin,  why 
should  he  be  dreaded  ?  Was  there  still  another  guest  in  the 
house  ?  That  might  be  :  I  had  not  been  inside  to  see.  The 
mansion  was  large  enough  to  accommodate  another — half  a  score 
of  others.  For  all  that,  my  thoughts  constantly  turned  upon 
Ijurra,  and  why  I  know  not ;  but  I  could  not  resist  the  belief 
that  he  was  the  person  pointed  at — the  guest  that  waa 
"  dreaded  !" 

The  behavior  which  I  had  noticed  on  the  day  before — the 
first  aud  only  time  I  had  ever  seen  the  man — his  angry  speech 


AN    OLD   ENMITY.  59 

and  Icoks  addressed  to  Isolina — her  apparent  fear  of  him : 
these  it  was,  no  doubt,  that  guided  my  instincts  ;  and  I  at 
length  came  to  the  conviction  that  he  was  the  fiend  dreaded  by 
Don  Ramon.  And  she  too  feared  him  !  u  God  grant  that  she 
dc  net  also  km.  him  !" 

Such  was  my  mental  ejaculation,  as  I  passed  on  to  consider 
the  closing  sentences  of  the  hastily  written  note.  In  these  1 
also  encountered  ambiguity  of  expression  ;  whether  I  con- 
Ftrued  it  aright,  time  would  tell.  Perhaps  my  wish  was  too 
much  parent  to  my  thoughts  ;  but  it  was  with  exulting  heart  I 
rodi  out  from  the  gateway. 


CHAPTER    X. 

AN    OLD    ENMITY. 

I  RODE  slowly,  and  but  a  few  paces  before  reining  up  my  horse- 
Although  I  was  under  the  impression  that  it  would  be  useless 
remaining,  and  that  an  interview  with  Isolina  was  impossible,  for 
that  day  at  least,  I  could  not  divest  myself  of  the  desire  to  lin 
ger  a  little  longer  near  the  spot.  Perhaps  she  might  appear 
again  upoii  the  azotea  ;  if  but  for  a  moment  ;  if  but  to  wave  her 
hand,  and  waft  me  an  adieu. :  if  but 

When,  a  short  distance  separated  me  from  the  walls,  I  drew 
up,  and  turning  in  the  saddle,  glanced  back  to  the  parapet.  A 
face  was  there,  where  hers  had  been  ;  but,  oh,  the  contrast 
between  her  lovely  features  and  those  that  now  met  my  gaze  ! 
Hyperion  to  the  Satyr  1  Not  that  the  face  now  before  me  was 
ugly  or  ill-featured.  There  are  some,  and  women  too,  who 
would  have  termed  it  handsome  ;  to  my  eyes,  it  was  hideous  1 
Let  me  confess  that  its  hideousness,  or  more  properly  its  causa, 


60  THE    WAK-TKA1L. 

rested  in  the  moral,  rather  than  the  physical  expression  ;  perhaps. 
too,  a  little  of  it  might  have  been  found  in  my  own  heart.  Under 
other  circumstances,  I  might  not  have  criticised  that  face  so 
harshly.  All  the  world  did  not  think  as  I  about  the  face  of 
Rafael  Ijurra — for  it  was  he  who  was  gazing  at  me  over  the 
parapet. 

Our  eyes  met ;  and  that  first  glance  stamped  the  relationship 
between  us — hostility  for  life  !  Not  a  word  passed,  and  yet  the 
looks  of  each  told  the  other,  in  the  plainest  language,  "  /  am 
your  foe"  Had  we  sworn  it  in  wild  oaths,  in  all  the  bitter 
hyperbole  of  insult,  neither  of  us  would  have  felt  it  more  pro 
found  or  keen. 

I  shall  not  stay  to  analyze  this  feeling  of  sudden  and  unex 
pressed  hostility,  though  the  philosophy  of  it  is  simple  enough. 
You  too  have  experienced  it — perhaps  more  than  once  in  your 
life,  without  being  exactly  able  to  explain  it.  I  am  not  in  that 
dilemma  :  I  could  explain  it  easily  enough  ;  but  it  scarcely 
merits  an  explanation.  Suffice  to  say,  that  while  gazing  upon 
the  face  of  that  man,  I  entertained  it  in  all  its  strength. 

I  have  called  it  an  unexpressed  hostility.  Therein  I  have 
spoken  without  thought  ;  it  was  fully  expressed  by  both  of  us, 
though  not  in  words.  Words  are  but  weak  symbols  of  a 
passion,  compared  with  the  passion  itself,  exhibited  in  the 
clenched  hand,  the  lip  compressed,  the  flashing  eye,  the  clouded 
cheek,  the  quick  play  of  the  muscles — weak  symbols  are  words 
compared  with  signs  like  these.  No  words  passed  between 
Ijurra  and  myself  ;  none  were  needed.  Each  read  in  the  other 
a  rival — a  rival  in  love,  a  competitor  for  the  heart  of  a  lovely 
woman,  the  lovdiest  in  Mexico  !  It  is  needless  to  say  that,  under 
such  an  aspect,  each  hated  the  other  at  sight. 

In  the  face  of  Ijurra  I  read  more.  I  saw  before  me  a  man  of 
bad  heart  and  brutal  nature.  His  large,  and,  to  ppeak  the 
truth,  beautiful  eyes,  had  in  them  an  animal  expression.  They 
were  not  without  intelligence,  but  so  much  the  worse,  for  that 


AN    OLD   ENMITY.  61 

intelligence  expressed  ferocity  and  bad  faith.  His  beauty  was 
the  beauty  of  the  jaguar.  He  had  the  air  of  an  accomplished 
man,  accustomed  to  conquest  in  the  field  of  love — heartless,  reck 
less,  false.  O  mystery  of  our  nature,  there  are  those  whc 
love  such  men  ! 

In  Ijurra's  face  I  read  more  :  he,  knew  my  secret !  The  signifi 
cant  glance  of  his  eye  told  me  so.  He  knew  why  I  was  lingering 
there.  The  satiric  smile  upon  his  lip  attested  it.  He  saw 
my  efforts  to  obtain  an  interview,  and,  confident  in  his  own 
position,  held  my  failure  but  lightly — a  something  only  to  amuse 
him.  I  could  tell  all  this  by  the  sardonic  sneer  that  sat  upon 
his  features. 

As  we  continued  to  gaze,  neither  moving  his  eyes  from  the 
other,  this  sneer  became  too  oppressive  to  be  silently  borne. 
I  could  no  longer  stand  such  a  satirical  reading  of  my  thoughts. 
The  insult  was  as  marked  as  words  could  have  made  it  ;  and  I 
was  about  to  have  recourse  to  words  to  reply,  when  the  clatter 
of  a  horse's  hoofs  caused  me  to  turn  my  eyes  in  an  opposite 
direction.  A  horseman  was  coming  up  the  hill,  in  a  direct  line 
from  the  pastures.  I  saw  it  was  one  of  the  lieutenants — 
Holingsworth. 

A  few  more  stretches  of  his  horse  brought  the  lieutenant  upon 
the  ground,  where  he  pulled  up  directly  in  front  of  me. 

"  Captain  Warfield  !"  said  he,  speaking  in  an  official  tone, 
"  the  cattle  are  collected  ;  shall  we  proceed" 

He  proceeded  no  further  with  that  sentence  ;  his  eye,  chance 
directed,  was  carried  up  to  the  azotea,  and  rested  upon  the  face 
of  Ijurra.  He  started  in  his  saddle,  as  if  a  serpent  had  stung 
him  ;  his  hollow  eyes  shot  prominently  out,  glaring  wildly  from 
their  sockets,  while  the  muscles  of  his  throat  and  jaws  twitched 
in  convulsive  action  !  For  a  moment,  the  desperate  passion 
seemed  to  stifle  his  breathing,  and  while  thus  silent  the  expres 
sion  of  his  eyes  puzzled  me.  It  was  of  frantic  joy,  and  ili 
became  that  face  where  I  had  never  observed  a  smile.  But  che 


62  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

strange  look  was  soon  explained — it  was  not  friendship,  but  th« 
joy  of  anticipated  vengeance  !  Breaking  into  a  wild  laugh,  he 
shrieked  out,  "  Rafael  Ijurra,  by  the  eternal  God  !" 

This  awful  and  emphatic  recognition  produced  its  effect.  I 
saw  that  Ijurra  knew  the  man  who  addressed  him.  His  dark 
countenance  turned  suddenly  pale,  and  then  became  mottbd  with 
livid  spots,  while  his  eyes  scintillated  and  rolled  about  in  the 
unsteady  glances  of  terror.  He  made  no  reply  beyond  the 
ejaculation  "  Demonio  I"  which  seemed  involuntarily  to  escape 
him.  He  appeared  unable  to  reply  ;  surprise  and  fright  held 
him  spell-bound  and  speechless  ! 

"  Traitor  1  villain  !  murderer  !"  shrieked  Holingsworth, 
"  we've  met  at  last  ;  now  for  a  squaring  of  our  accounts  I"  and 
in  the  next  instant  the  muzzle  of  his  rifle  was  pointing  to  the 
notch  in  the  parapet — pointing  to  the  face  of  Ijurra  ! 

"  Hold  !  Holingsworth  ! — hold  !"  cried  I,  pressing  my  heel 
deeply  into  my  horse's  flanks,  and  dashing  forward. 

Though  my  steed  sprang  instantly  to  the  spur,  and  as  quickly 
I  caught  the  lieutenant's  arm,  I  was  too  late  to  arrest  the  shot. 
I  spoiled  his  aim,  however  ;  and  the  bullet,  instead  of  passing 
through  the  brain  of  Rafael  Ijurra,  as  it  would  certainly  have 
done,  glanced  upon  the  mortar  of  the  parapet,  sending  a  cloud 
of  lime-dust  into  his  face. 

Up  to  that  moment  the  Mexican  had  made  no  attempt  to 
escape  beyond  the  aim  of  his  antagonist.  Terror  must  have 
glued  him  to  the  spot.  It  was  only  when  the  report  of  the 
rifle,  and  the  blinding  mortar  broke  the  spell,  that  he  was  able  to 
turn  and  fly.  When  the  dust  cleared  away,  his  head  was  no 
longer  above  the  wall. 

I  turned    to   my  companion,    and   addressed   him  in   some 
warmth. 

II  Lieutenant  Holingsworth  1    I  command" 

"  Captain  Warfield,"  interrupted  he,  in  a  tone  of  cold  deter 
mination,  "  yon  may  command  me  in  all  matters  pf  duty,  and  1 


AN   OLD   ENMITY.  63 

shall  obey  you.  This  is  a  private  affair  ;  and,  by  the  Eternal, 

the  general  himself Bah  !  I  lose  time  ;  the  villain  will 

escape  !"  and  before  I  could  seize  either  himself  or  his  bridle- 
rein,  he  shot  his  horse  past  me  and  entered  the  gateway  at 
a  gallop. 

I  followed  as  quickly  as  I  could,  and  reached  the  patio 
a] most  as  soon  as  he;  but  too  late  to  hinder  him  from  his 
purpose.  I  grasped  him  by  the  arm,  but  with  determined 
strength  he  wrenched  himself  free — at  the  same  instant  gliding 
out  of  his  saddle.  Pistol  in  hand,  he  rushed  up  the  escalera,  his 
trailing  scabbard  clanking  upon  the  stone  steps  as  he  went.  He 
was  soon  out  of  my  sight,  behind  the  parapet  of  the  azotea. 

Flinging  myself  from  the  saddle,  I  followed  as  fast  as  my  legs 
would  carry  me.  While  on  the  stairway,  I  heard  loud  words 
and  oaths  above,  the  crash  of  falling  objects,  and  then  two  shots 
following  quick  and  fast  upon  each  other.  I  heard  screaming  in 
a  woman's  voice,  and  a  groan — the  last  uttered  by  a  man.  One 
of  them  is  dead  or  dying,  thought  I. 

On  reaching  the  azotea — which  I  did  in  a  few  seconds  of  time 
— I  found  perfect  silence  there.  I  saw  no  one,  male  or  female, 
living  or  dead  !  True,  the  place  was  like  a  garden,  with  plants, 
shrubs,  and  even  trees,  growing  in  gigantic  pots.  I  could  not 
view  it  all  at  once.  They  might  still  be  there  behind  the  screen 
of  leaves  ? 

I  ran  to  and  fro  over  the  whole  roof ;  I  saw  flower-pots 
freshly  broken.  It  was  the  crash  of  them  I  had  heard  coming  up. 
I  saw  no  men,  neither  Holingsworth  nor  Ijurra  !  They  could 
not  be  standing  up,  or  I  should  have  seen  them.  "  Perhaps 
they  are  down  among  the  pots — both.  There  were  two  shots. 
Perhaps  both  are  down — dead  1" 

But  where  was  she  who  screamed  ?     Was  it  Isolina  ? 

Half  distracted,  I  rushed  to  another  part  of  the  roof.  I  sa^w 
a  small  escalera — a  private  stair — that  led  into  the  interior  of 


64:  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

the  house.  Ha  !  they  must  have  gone  down  by  it  ?  she  whu 
screamed  must  have  gone  that  way? 

For  a  moment,  I  hesitated  to  follow  ;  but  it  wao  no  time  tc 
stand  upon  etiquette,  and  I  was  preparing  to  plunge  down  the 
stairway,  when  I  heard  shouting  outside  the  walls,  and  then 
another  shot  from  a  pistol. 

I  turned,  and  stepped  hastily  across  the  azotea  in  the  direction 
of  the  sounds.  I  looked  over  the  parapet.  Down  the  slope  of 
the  hill  two  men  were  running  at  the  top  of  their  speed,  one  after 
the  other.  The  hindmost  held  in  his  hand  a  drawn  sabre.  It 
was  Holingswortli  still  in  pursuit  of  Ijurra  1 

The  latter  appeared  to  be  gaining  upon  his  vengeful  pursuer, 
who,  burdened  with  his  accoutrements,  ran  heavily.  The  Mexi 
can  was  evidently  making  for  the  woods  that  began  at  the 
bottom  of  the  hill  ;  and  in  a  few  seconds  more  he  had  entered 
the  timber,  and  passed  out  of  sight.  Like  a  hound  upon  the 
trail,  Holingsworth  followed,  and  disappeared  from  my  view  at 
the  same  spot. 

Hoping  I  might  still  be  able  to  prevent  the  shedding  of 
blood,  I  descended  hastily  from  the  azotea,  mounted  my  horse, 
and  galloped  down  the  hill.  I  reached  the  edge  of  the  woods 
where  they  had  gone  in,  and  followed  some  distance  upon  their 
trail  ;  but  I  lost  it  at  length,  and  came  to  a  halt.  I  remained 
for  some  minutes  listening  for  voices,  or,  what  I  more  expected 
to  hear,  the  report  of  a  pistol.  Neither  sound  reached  me.  I 
heard  only  the  shouts  of  the  vaqueros  on  the  other  side  of  the 
hill ;  and  this  reminding  me  of  my  duty,  I  turned  my  horse,  and 
rode  back  to  the  hacienda. 

There,  everything  was  silent :  not  a  face  was  to  be  seen.  The 
i  -.mates  of  the  house  had  hidden  themselves  in  rooms,  barred  up 
and  dark  ;  even  the  damsels  of  the  kitchen  had  disappeared, 
thinking,  no  doubt,  that  an  attack  would  be  made  upon  the  pre 
mises,  and  that  spoliation  and  plunder  were  intended 

I  was  puzzled  how  to  act.     Holingsworth's  strange  conduct 


RAFAEL    IJURRA.  £ 

bad  disarranged  my  ideas.  I  should  have  demanded  admission, 
:.nd  explained  the  occurrence  to  Don  Ramon  ;  but  I  had  nc 
3lri||pmtion  to  give  ;  I  rather  needed  one  for  myself  ;  and 

nU  r  a  painful  feeling  of  suspense  as  to  the  result,  I  rode  off 
•  rom  the  place. 

Half-a-dozen  rangers  were  left  upon  the  ground,  with  orders 
x>  await  the  return  of  Holingsworth,  and  then  gallop  after  us  ; 
whi'C  the  remainder  of  the  troop,  with  Wheatley  and  myself  in 
advance  of  the  vast  drove,  took  the  route  for  the  American 
ca 


CHAPTER    XI. 

RAFAEL   IJURRA. 

IN  ill-humor  I  journeyed  along.  The  hot  sun  and  the  dusty 
road  did  not  improve  my  temper,  ruffled  as  it  was  by  the  unplea 
sant  incident.  I  was  far  from  satisfied  with  my  first-lieutenant, 
whose  conduct  was  still  a  mystery.  Wheatley  ccdd  not  explain 
it.  Some  old  enmity,  no  doubt,  both  of  us  believed --some  story 
of  wrong  and  revenge. 

No  everyday  man  was  Holingsworth,  but  one  altogether  of 
peculiar  character  and  temperament — as  unlike  him  who  rode  by 
my  side  as  acid  to  alkali.  The  latter  was  a  dashing-,  cheerful 
fellow,  dressed  in  half-Mexican  costume,  who  could  ride  a  wild 
horse  and  throw  the  lazo  with  any  vaquero  in  the  crowd.  He 
was  a  true  Texan,  almost  by  birth  ;  had  shared  the  fortunes  of 
the  young  republic  since  the  days  of  Austin  ;  and  was  never 
more  happy  than  while  engaged  in  the  border  warfare,  thaj,  with 
slijrht  intervals,  had  been  carried  on  against  either  Mexican 
or  Indian  foeman,  ever  since  the  lone-star  had  spread  ;ts  ba  •>  ei 


THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

to  the  breeze.  No  raw  recruit  was  Wheatley  ;  though  young 
he  was  what  Texans  term  an  "old  Indian  fighter" — a  rea 
"  Texas  ranger." 

Holingsworth  was  not  a  Texan,  but  a  Tennessean,  though 
Texas  had  been  for  some  years  his  adopted  home.  It  was  net 
the  first  time  he  had  crossed  the  Rio  Grande.  Lie  had  been  one 
of  the  unfortunate  Mier  expedition — a  survivor  of  that  decimated 
band — afterwards  carried  in  chains  to  Mexico,  aii-i  there  com 
pelled  to-  work  breast-deep  in  the  mud  of  the  great  zancas  time 
traverse  the  streets.  Such  experience  might  account  for  the 
serious,  somewhat  stern  expression  that  habitually  rested  upon 
his  countenance,  and  gave  him  the  character  of  a  "dark,  satur 
nine  man."  I  have  said  incidentally  that  I  never  saw  him  smile 
— never.  He  spoke  seldom,  and,  as  a  general  thing,  only  upon 
matters  of  duty  ;  but  at  times,  when  he  fancied  himself  alone,  I 
have  heard  him  mutter  threats,  while  a  convulsive  twitching  of 
the  muscles,  and  a  mechanical  clenching  of  the  fingers  accom 
panied  his  words,  as  though  he  stood  in  the  presence  of  some 
deadly  foe  !  I  had  more  than  once  observed  these  frenzied  out- 
b<vsts,  without  knowing  aught  of  their^  cause.  Harding  Ho 
lingsworth — such  was  his  full  name — was  a  man  with  whom  no 
one  would  have  desired  to  take  the  liberty  of  asking  an  explana 
tion  of  his  conduct.  His  courage  and  war-prowess  were  well 
known  among  the  Texans  ;  but  it  is  idle  to  add  this,  since  other 
wise  he  could  not  have  stood  among  them  in  the  capacity  of  a 
leader.  Men  like  them,  who  have  the  election  of  their  own  offi 
cers,  do  not  trust  their  lives  to  the  guidance  of  either  stripling  or 
coward. 

Wheatley  and  I  were  talking  the  matter  over  as  we  rode 
along,  and  endeavoring  to  account  for  the  strange  behavior  of 
Holingsworth.  We  had  both  concluded  that  the  affair  had 
arisen  from  some  old  enmity — perhaps  connected  with  the  Miet 
expedition — when  accidentally  I  mentioned  the  Mexican's  name. 
Up  to  this  moment  the  Texan  lieutenant  Nad  not  seen  Ijurra— 


KAFAEL    IJURKA.  67 

Laving  been  ftusy  with  the  cattle  upon  the  other  side  of  the 
hill — nor  had  the  name  been  pronounced  in  his  hearing. 

"Ijurra  !"  he  exclaimed,  with  a  start,  reining  up  and  turning 
to  me  with  an  inquiring  look. 

"  Ijurra." 

"  Rafael  Ijurra,  do  you  think  ?" 

"  Yes,  Rafael— that  is  the  name." 

"  A  tall,  dark  fellow,  moustached  and  whiskered  ? — not  ill- 
looking  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  he  might  answer  that  description,"  I  replied, 

"If  it  be  the  same  Rafael  Ijurra  that  used  to  live  at  San 
Antonio,  there's  more  than  one  Texan  would  like  to  raise  his 
hair.  The  same — it  must  be — there's  no  two  of  the  name  ; 
'taint  likely — no." 

"  What  do  you  know  of  him  ?" 

"  Know  ? — that  he's  about  the  most  precious  scoundrel  in  all 
^exas  or  Mexico  either,  and  that's  saying  a  good  deal.  Rafael 
Ijurra  ?  'Tis  he,  by  thunder  !  It  can  be  nobody  else  ;  and 

Hoi  ings  worth Ha  !  now  I  think  of  it,  it's  just  the  man  ; 

and  Harding  Holingsworth,  of  all  men  living,  has  good  reasons 
to  remember  him." 

"  How  ?     Explain  !" 

The  Texan  paused  for  a  moment,  as  if  to  collect  his  scattered 
memories,  and  then  proceeded  to  detail  what  he  knew  of  Rafael 
Ijurra.  His  account,  without  the  expletives  and  emphatic 
ejaculations  which  adorned  it,  was  substantially  as  follows  : 

Rafael  Ijurra  was  by  birth  a  Texan  of  Mexican  race.  He  had 
formerly  possessed  a  hacienda  near  San  Antonio  de  Bexar,  with 
other  considerable  property,  all  of  which  he  had  spent  at  play 
or  otherwise  dissipated,  so  that  he  had  sunk  to  the  status  of  a 
professional  gambler.  Up  to  the  date  of  the  Mier  expedition 
he  had  passed  off  as  a  citizen  of  Texas,  under  the  new  regime, 
and  pretended  much  patriotic  attachment  to  the  young  republic, 


68  THE    WAK-TEAIL. 

When  the  Mier  adventure  was  about  being  organized,  Ijur.  a  had 
influence  enough  to  have  himself  elected  one  of  its  officers.  No 
one  suspected  his  fidelity  to  the  cause.  He  was  one  of  those  who 
at  the  halt  by  Laredo,  urged  the  impudent  advance  upon  Mier  ; 
and  his  presumed  knowledge  of  the  country — of  which  he  was  a 
native — gave  weight  to  his  counsel.  It  afterwards  proved  that 
his  free  advice  was  intended  for  the  benefit  of  the  enemy,  with 
whom  he  was  in  secret  correspondence. 

On  the  night  before  the  battle,  Ijurra  was  missing.  The  Texan 
army  was  eaptured  after  a  brave  defence,  in  which  they  slew 
more  than  their  own  number  of  the  enemy,  and,  under  guard, 
the  remnant  was  marched  off  for  the  capital  of  Mexico.  On  the 
second  or  third  day  of  their  march,  what  was  the  astonishment 
of  the  Texan  prisoners  to  see  Rafael  Ijurra  in  the  uniform  of  a 
Mexican  officer,  and  forming  part  of  their  escort !  But  that  their 
hands  were  bound,  they  would  have  torn  him  to  pieces,  so 
enraged  were  they  at  this  piece  of  black  treason. 

"  I  was  not  in  that  ugly  scrape;"  continued  the  lieutenant. 
"  As  luck  would  have  it,  I  was  down  with  a  fever  in  Brazos 
bottom,  or  I  guess  I  should  have  had  to  draw  my  bean  with  the 
rest  of  'em,  poor  fellows  1" 

Wheatley's  allusion  to  "  drawing  his  bean"  I  understood  well 
enough.  All  who  have  ever  read  the  account  of  this  ill-starred 
adventure  will  remember,  that  the  Texans,  goaded  by  ill  treat 
ment,  rose  upon  their  guard,  disarmed,  arid  conquered  them  ! 
but  in  their  subsequent  attempt  to  escape,  iil  managed  and  ill 
guided,  nearly  all  of  them  were  recaptured,  and  decimated — each 
tenth  man  having  been  shot  like  a  dog  !  The  mode  of  choosing 
the  victims  was  by  lot,  and  the  black  and  white  beans  of  Mexico 
(frijoks)  were  made  use  of  as  the  expositors  of  the  fatal  decrees 
of  destiny.  A  number  of  the  beans,  corresponding  to  the  number 
of  the  captives,  was  placed  within  an  eartheru  olla — there  being 
a  black  bean  for  every  nine  white  ones.  He  who  drew  the 


KAFAEL   IJURKA.  69 

black  bean  must  die  I  Daring  the  drawing  of  this  fearful  lottery, 
there  occurred  incidents  exhibiting  character  as  heroic  as  hag 
ever  been  recorded  in  story. 

Read  from  an  eye-witness  : 

"  They  all  drew  their  beans  with  manly  dignity  and  firmness. 
Some  of  lighter  temper  jested  over  the  bloody  tragedy.  One 
would  say  :.  '  Boys  !  this  beats  raffling  all  to  pieces /'  .Another  : 
'  Well,  this  is  the  tallest  gambling-scrape  I  ever  was  in.J  Robert 
Beard,  who  lay  upon  the  ground  exceedingly  ill,  called  his  bro 
ther  William,  and  said  :  '  Brother,  if  you  draw  a  black  bean, 
Til  take  your  place — I  want  to  die  !'  The  brother,  with  over 
whelming  anguish,  replied  :  '  No,  I  will  keep  my  own  place  ;  1 
am  stronger,  and  letter  able  to  die  than  you?  Major  Cocke,  when 
ho  drew  the  fatal  bean,  held  it  up  between  his  finger  and  thumb, 
and,  with  a  smile  of  contempt,  said  :  '  Boys  !  I  told  you  so  :  I 
never  failed  in  my  life  to  draw  a  prize  !'  He  then  coolly  added  : 
'They  only  rob  me  of  forty  years.'  Henry  Whaling,  one  of 
Cameron's  best  fighters,  as  he  drew  his  black  bean,  said,  in  a 
joyous  tone  :  '  Well,  they  don't  make  much  out  of  me  anyhow  ; 
I  know  I've  killed  twenty-five  of  them.'  Then  demanding  his 
dinner  in  a  firm  voice,  he  added  :  '  They  shall  not  cheat  me  out 
of  it.'  Saying  this,  he  ate  heartily,  smoked  a  cigar,  and  in 
twenty  minutes  after,  he  had  ceased  to  live  !  The  Mexicans  fired 
fifteen  shots  p.t  Whaling  before  he  expired  1  Young  Torrey, 
quite  a  youth,  but  in  spirit  a  giant,  said  that  he  '  was  perfectly 
willing  to  meet  his  fate — for  the  glory  of  his  country  he  had 
fought,  and  for  her  glory  he  was  willing  to  die.'  Edward  Este 
spoke  of  hia  death  with  the  coolest  indifference.  Cash  said  : 
'  Well,  they  murdered  my  brother  with  Colonel  Tannin,  and 
''.hey  are  about  to  murder  me.'  J.  L.  Jones  said  to  the  inter 
preter  :  '  Tell  the  officer  to  look  upon  men  who  are  not  afraid 
to  die  for  their  country.'  Captain  Eastland  behaved  with  the 
most  patriotic  dignity  ;  he  desired  that  his  country  should  not 
particular!  avenge  his  death.  Major  Dunham  said  he  was  pro* 


70 


THE    WAR-TRAIL. 


pared  to  die  for  his  country.  James  Ogden,  with  his  usual 
equanimity  of  temper,  smiled  at  his  fate  and  said  :  '  I  am  pre 
pared  to  meet  it.7  Young  Robert  W.  Harris  behaved  in  the 
most  unflinching  manner,  and  called  upon  his  companions  to 
avenge  their  murder.  *  *  *  * 

"  They  were  bound  together — their  eyes  being  bandaged — and 
set  upon  a  log  near  the  wall,  with  their  backs  towards  their 
executioners.  They  all  begged  the  officer  to  shoot  them  in  front, 
and  at  a  short  distance,  saying,  they  '  were  not  afraid  io  loa 
death  in  the  face.1  This  request  the  Mexican  refused  ;  and  to 
make  his  cruelty  as  refined  as  possible,  caused  the  fire  to  be 
delivered  from  a  distance,  and  to  be  continued  for  ten  or  twelve 
minutes,  lacerating  and  mangling  those  heroes  in  a  manner  tco 
horrible  for  description." 

When  you  talk  of  Thermopylae,  think  also  of  Texas  1 

"  But  what  of  Holingsworth  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Ah  !  Holingsworth  !"  replied  the  lieutenant  ;  "  he  has  ^*ood 
cause  to  remember  Ijurra,  now  I  think  of  it.  I  shall  give  the 
story  to  you  as  I  heard  it  ;"  and  my  companion  proceeded  with 
a  relation,  which  caused  the  blood  to  curdle  in  my  veins,  as  I 
listened.  It  fully  explained,  if  it  did  not  palliate,  the  fierce 
hatred  of  the  Tennessean  towards  Rafael  Ijurra. 

In  the  Mier  expedition,  Holingsworth  had  a  brother,  who, 
like  himself,  was  made  prisoner.  He  was  a  delicate  youth,  and 
could  ill  endure  the  hardships,  much  less  the  barbarous  treat 
ment  to  which  the  prisoners  were  exposed  during  that  memor 
able  march.  He  became  reduced  to  a  skeleton,  and  worse  than 
that,  footsore,  so  that  he  could  no  longer  endure  the  pain  of  his 
feet  and  ankles,  worn  skinless,  and  charged  with  the  spines  of 
acacias,  cactus,  and  the  numerous  thorny  plants  in  which  the 
dry  soil  of  Mexico  is  so  prolific.  In  agony,  he  fell  down  upon 
the  road. 

Ijurra  was  in  command  of  the  guard  ;  from  him  Holings- 
worth's  brother  begged  to  be  allowed  the  use  of  a  mule  The 


RAFAEL    UURRA.  71 

youth  had  known  Ijurra  at  San  Antonio,  and  had  even  lent  him 
money,  which  was  never  returned. 

"  To  your  feet,  and  forward  !"  was  Ijurra's  answer. 

"  I  cannot  move  a  step,"  said  the  youth,  despairingly. 

"  Cannot  I    Carrai !  we  shall   see  whether  you  can.     Here, 
Pablo,"  continued  he,  addressing  himself  to  one  of  the  soldiers 
f  the  guard  ;  "  give  this  fellow  the  spur  ;   he  is  restive  I" 

The  ruffian  soldier  approached  with  fixed  bayonet,  seriously 
intending  to  use  its  point  on  the  poor  way-worn  invalid  !  The 
latter  rose  with  an  effort,  and  made  a  desperate  attempt  to  keep 
on  ;  but  his  resolution  again  failed  him.  He  could  not  endure 
the  agonizing  pain,  and  after  staggering  a  pace  or  two,  he  fell  up 
against  a  rock. 

"  I  cannot  1"  he  again  cried — "  I  cannot  march  further  :  let 
me  die  here." 

"  Forward  I  or  you  shall  die  here,"  shouted  Ijurra,  drawing  r 
pistol  from  his  belt,  and  cocking  it,  evidently  with  the  determi 
nation  to  carry  out  his  threat.  "  Forward  1" 

"  I  cannot,"  faintly  replied  the  youth. 

"  Forward,  or  I  fire  !" 

"  Fire  1"  cried  the  young  man,  throwing  open  the  flaps  of  his 
hunting-shirt,  and  making  one  last  effort  to  stand  erect. 

"  You  are  scarce  worth  a  bullet,"  said  the  monster,  with  a 
sneer  ;  at  the  same  instant  he  levelled  his  pistol  at  the  breast  of 
his  victim,  and  fired  !  When  the  smoke  was  blown  aside,  the 
body  of  young  Holingsworth  was  seen  lying  at  the  base  of  the 
rock,  doubled  up,  dead  !  A  thrill  of  horror  ran  through  the 
line  of  captives.  Even  their  habitually  brutal  guards  were 
touched  by  such  wanton  barbarity.  The  brother  of  the  youth 
was  not  six  yards  from  the  spot,  tightly  bound,  and  witness  of 
the  whole  scene  !  Fancy  his  feelings  at  that  moment  ! 

"  No  wonder,"  continued  the  Texan — "  no  wonder  that  Har 
ding  Holingsworth  don't  stand  upon  ceremony  as  to  where  and 
when  he  may  attack  Rafael  Ijurra.  I  verily  believe  that  the  pre* 


F2  THE    WAB-TBAIL. 

ience  of  the  commander-in-chief  wouldn't  restrain  him  from  taking 
vengeance.     It  ain't  to  be  wondered  at  !" 

In  hopes  that  my  companion  might  help  me  to  come  to  some 
knowledge  of  the  family  at  the  hacienda,  I  guided  the  conversa 
tion  in  that  direction. 

"  And  Don  Ramon  de  Yargas  is  Ijurra's  uncle  ?" 

"  Sure  enough,  he  must  he.  Ha  !  I  did  not  think  of  that 
Don  Ramon  it  the  uncle.  I  ought  to  have  known  him  this 
morning — that  confounded  mezcal  I  drank  knocked  him  out  of 
my  mind  altogether.  I  have  seen  the  old  fellow  several  times. 
He  used  to  come  to  San  Antonio  once  a  year,  on  business  with 
the  merchants  there.  I  remember,  too,  he  once  brought  a 
daughter  with  him — splendid  girl  that,  and  no  mistake  !  Faith, 
she  crazed  half  the  young  fellows  in  San  Antonio,  and  there 
were  no  ends  of  duels  about  her.  She  used  to  ride  wild  horses, 
and  fling  the  lazo  like  a  Comanche.  But  what  am  I  talking 
about  ?  That  mezcal  has  got  into  my  brains,  sure  enough.  It 
must  have  been  her  you  chased  ?  Sure  as  shootin',  it  wasf 

"  Probably  enough,"  I  replied,  in  a  careless  way.  My  com 
panion  little  knew  the  deep,  feverish  interest  bis  remarks  were 
exciting,  or  the  struggle  it  was  costing  me  to  conceal  my  emo 
tions.  One  thing  I  longed  to  learn  from  him — whether  any  of 
these  amorous  duellists  had  been  favoured  with  the  approbation, 
of  the  lady.  I  longed  to  put  this  question,  and  yet  the  absolute 
dread  of  the  answer  restrained  my  tongue  !  I  remained  silent, 
till  the  opportunity  had  passed.  The  hoof-strokes  of  half-a-dozen 
horses  coming  rapidly  from  the  rear,  interrupted  the  conversa 
tion.  Without  surprise,  I  saw  that  it  was  Holingsworth  and  ihe 
rangers  who  had  been  left  at  the  hacienda. 

"  Captain  Warfield  !"  said  the  Tennessean  as  he  spurred  along 
side,  "  my  conduct  no  doubt  surprises  you.  I  shall  be  able  to 
explain  it  to  your  satisfaction  when  time  permits.  It's  a  long 
story — a  painful  one  to  me  :  you  will  not  require  it  from  me  now. 
This  much  let  me  say — for  good  reason,  I  hold  Rafael  Ijurra 


THE   YELLOW  DOMINO.  73 

a:  my  most  deadly  foe.  /  came  to  Mexico  to  kill  that  man;  and 
by  the  Eternal  !  if  I  don't  succeed,  I  care  not  who  kills  me  F* 

"  You  have  not  then  " 

With  a  feeling  of  relief,  I  put  the  question,  for  I  read  the 
answer  in  the  look  of  disappointed  vengeance  that  gleamed  in  the 
eyes  of  the  Tennessean.  I  was  not  permitted  to  finish  the  in 
terrogatory  ;  he  knew  what  I  was  going  to  ask,  and  interrupted 
me  with  the  reply  : 

"  No,  no  ;  the  villain  has  escaped  ;  but  by  " 

The  rest  of  the  emphatic  vow  was  inaudible  ;  but  the  wild 
glance  that  flashed  from  the  speaker's  eye  expressed  his  deep 
purpose  more  plainly  than  words.  The  next  moment  he  fell  back 
to  his  place  in  the  troop,  and  with  his  head  slightly  bent  forward, 
rode  on  in  silence.  His  dark  taciturn  features  were  lit  up  at  in 
tervals  by  an  ominous  gleam,  showing  that  he  still  brooded  over 
his  unavenged  wrong. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE      YELLOW      DOMINO. 

THE  next  two  days  I  passed  in  feverish  restlessness.  Holings- 
worth's  conduct  had  quite  disconcerted  my  plans.  From  the 
concluding  sentences  of  Isolina's  note,  I  had  construed  an  invita 
tion  to  revisit  the  hacienda  in  some  more  quiet  guise  than  that  of 
a  filibustero;  but  after  what  had  transpired,  I  could  not  muster 
courage  to  present  myself  under  any  pretence.  It  was  not  likely 
J  should  be  welcome — I,  the  associate — nay,  the  commander — 
of  the  man  who  had  attempted  to  take  the  life  of  a  nephew,  a 
cousin  I  Don  Ramon  had  stipulated  for  a  "  little  rudeness;"  he 
had  had  the  full  measure  of  his  bargain,  and  a  good  deal  more. 

4 


74-  THE    WAR-TEAIL. 

He  could  not  otherwise  than  think  so.  Where  I  to  present  r.y- 
self  at  the  hacienda,  I  could  not  be  else  than  coldly  received— 
in  short,  unwelcome. 

I  thought  of  apologies  and  pretexts,  but  to  no  purpose.  For 
two  days  I  remained  in  vacillating  indecision;  I  neither  saw  nor 

heard  of  her  who  engrossed  my  thoughts. 

******* 

News  from  head-quarters  !  A  "  grand  ball "  to  be  given  in 
the  city  ! 

This  bit  of  gossip  fell  upon  my  ear  without  producing  the 
slightest  impression,  for  I  cared  little  for  dancing,  and  less  for 
grand  balls  :  in  earlier  youth  I  had  liked  both;  but  not  then. 

The  thing  would  at  once  have  passed  from  my  thoughts,  had 
it  not  been  for  some  additional  information  imparted  at  the  same 
time,  which  to  me  at  once  rendered  the  ball  attractive. 

The  information  I  allude  to  was,  that  the  ball  was  got  up  "  by 
authority,"  and  would  be  upon  a  grand  scale.  Its  object  was 
political;  in  other  words,  it  was  to  be  the  means  of  cultivating  a 
friendly  intercourse  between  the  conquerors  and  the  conquered — 
a  desirable  end.  Every  effort  would  be  made  to  bring  out  the 
"  native  society,"  and  let  it  see  that  we  Yankee  officers  were  not 
such  "barbarians"  as  they  affected  to  deem,  and  in  reality 
pronounced  us.  It  was  known — so  stated  my  informant- -that 
many  families  of  the  Ayankieados  would  be  present;  and  in  *>rder 
Do  make  it  pleasanter  for  those  who  feared  proscription,  the  ball 
was  to  be  a  masked  one — un  baile  de  mascara. 

"  The  Ayankieados  are  to  be  there  1  and  she  " 

My  heart  bounded  with  new  hope;  and  I  resolved  to  make  one 
of  the  maskers — not  that  I  intended  to  go  in  costume.  In  my 
slender  wardrobe  was  a  civilian  dress  of  proper  cut,  and  tolera 
bly  well  preserved:  that  would  answer  my  purpose.  The  ball 
was  to  come  off  on  the  night  following  that  on  which  I  had  word 
of  it  My  suspense  would  be  short. 


THE   YELLOW    DOMINO.  75 

The  time  appeared  long  enough,  but  at  length  the  hour  arrived, 
ind  mounting  my  good  steed,  I  started  off  for  the  city.  A  brisk 
ride  of  two  hours  brought  me  on  the  ground,  and  I  found  that  I 
was  hite  enough  to  be  fashionable. 

As  I  entered  the  b:ill-room,  I  saw  that  most  of  the  company 
Lad  arrived,  and  the  floor  was  grouped  with  dancers.  It  was 
evident  the  affair  was  a  "  success."  There  were  four  or  five 
hundred  persons  present,  nearly  half  of  them  ladies.  Many  were 
in  character  costumes,  as  Tyrolese  peasants,  Andalusian  majas, 
Bavarian  broom-girls,  Wallachian  boyards,  Turkish  sultanas, 
and  bead  bedecked  Indian  belles.  A  greater  number  were  dis 
guised  iu  the  ungraceful  domino,  while  not  a  few  appeared  in 
regular  evening-dress.  Most  of  the  ladies  wore  masks;  some 
simply  hid  their  faces  behind  the  coquettish  reboso  tapado,  while 
others  permitted  their  charms  to  be  gazed  upon.  As  the  night 
wore  on,  and  an  occasional  capita  de  vino  strengthened  the  nerves 
of  the  company,  the  uncovered  faces  became  more  numerous,  and 
masks  got  lost  or  put  away. 

As  for  the  gentlemen,  a  number  of  them  also  wore  masks — 
some  were  en  costume,  but  uniforms  predominated,  stamping  the 
ball  with  a  military  character.  It  was  not  a  little  singular  to  see 
a  number  of  Mexican  officers  mingling  in  the  throng  !  These 
were  of  course  prisoners  on  parole  ;  and  their  more  brilliant  uni 
forms,  of  French  patterns,  contrasted  oddly  with  the  plain  blue 
dresses  of  their  conquerors.  The  presence  of  these  prisoners,  in 
the  full  glitter  of  their  gold-lace,  was  not  exactly  in  good  taste ; 
but  a  moment's  reflection  convinced  one  it  was  not  a  matter  of 
choice  with  them.  Poor  fellows  !  had  they  abided  by  the  laws 
Df  etiquette,  they  could  not  have  been  there;  and  no  doubt  they 
were  as  desirous  of  shaking  their  legs  in  the  dance  as  the  gayest 
of  their  captors.  Indeed,  in  this  species  of  rivalry,  they  far  out 
stripped  the  latter. 

I  spent  but  little  time  in  observing  these  peculiarities;  but  one 
Wea  engrossed  my  mind,  and  that  was  to  find  Isolina  de  Vargas 


76  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

— no  easy  task  ara.i  such  a  multitude  of  maskers.  Amr>ng  the 
uncovered  faces  she  was  not.  I  soon  scanned  them  all,  or  rather 
glanced  at  them.  It  needed  no  scanning  to  recognise  hers.  If 
there,  she  was  one  of  the  mascaritas,  and  I  addressed  myself  to  a 
close  observation  of  the  dames  en  costume  and  the  dominoes 
Hopeless  enough  appeared  the  prospect  of  recognising  her.  but  a 
little  hope  sustained  me  in  the  reflection,  that,  being  myself  un 
covered,  she  might  recognize  me. 

When  a  full  half  hour  had  passed  away,  and  my  lynx-likt 
surveillance  was  still  unrewarded,  this  hope  died  within  me;  an<3. 
what  may  appear  strange,  I  began  to  wish  she  was  not  there 
".  If  present,"  thought  I,  "  she  must  have  seen  me  ere  this,  anr, 
to  have  taken  no  notice-" A  little  pang  of  chagrin  accom 
panied  this  reflection. 

I  flung  myself  upon  a  seat,  and  endeavored  to  assume  an  air 
of  indifference,  though  I  was  far  from  feeling  indifferent,  and  my 
eyes  as  before  kept  eagerly  scanning  the  fair  maskers.  Now  and 
then,  the  tournure  of  an  ankle — I  had  seen  Isolina's — or  the 
elliptical  sweep  of  a  fine  figure,  inspired  me  with  fresh  hope; 
but  as  the  mascaritas  who  owed  them  were  near  enough  to  have 
seen,  and  yet  took  no  notice  of  me,  I  conjectured — in  fact,  hoped 
— that  none  of  them  was  she.  Indeed,  a  well-turned  ankle  is  nc 
distinctive  mark  among  the  fair  doncellas  of  Mexico. 

At  length,  a  pair  of  unusually  neat  ones,  supporting  a  figure 
of  such  superb  outlines,  that  even  the  ungraceful  domino  could 
not  conceal  them,  came  under  my  eyes,  and  riveted  my  attention. 
My  heart  beat  wildly  as'  I  gazed.  I  could  not  help  the  belief 
that  the  lady  in  the  yellow  domino  was  Isolina  de  Vargas.  She 
was  waltzing  with  a  young  dragoon  officer;  and  as  they  passed 
me,  I  rose  from  my  seat,  and  approached  the  orbit  of  the  dance, 
in  order  to  keep  them  under  my  eyes.  As  they  passed  me  a 
second  time,  I  fancied  the  lady  regarded  me  through  her  mask  : 
I  fancied  I  saw  her  start.  I  was  almost  sure  it  was  Isolina  1 

My  feeling  was  now  that  of  jealousy.     The  young  officer  wad 


THE   YELLOW   DOMINO.  77 

one  of  the  elegant  gentlemen  of  the  service — a  professed  lady- 
killer — a  fellow,  who,  notwithstanding  his  well-known  deficiency 
of  brains,  was  ever  welcome  among  women.  She  seemed  to  press 
closely  to  him  as  they  whirled  around,  while  her  head  rested 
languish ingly  upon  his  shoulder.  She  appeared  to  be  contented 
with  her  partner.  I  could  scarcely  endure  the  agony  of  my 
fancies. 

It  was  a  relief  to  me  when  the  music  ceased,  and  the  waltz 
ended.  The  circle  broke  up,  and  the  waltzers  scattered  in  dif 
ferent  directions,  but  my  eyes  followed  only  the  dragoon  officer 
and  his  partner.  He  conducted  her  to  a  seat,  and  then  placing 
himself  by  her  side,  the  two  appeared  to  engage  in  an  earnest 
and  interesting  conversation. 

With  me  politeness  was- now  out  of  the  question.  I  had 
grown  as  jealous  as  a  tiger  ;  and  I  drew  near  enough  to  become 
a  listener.  The  lowness  of  the  tone  in  which  they  conversed 
precluded  the  possibility  of  hearing  much  of  what  was  said,  but 
I  could  make  out  that  the  spark  was  "coaxing"  his  partner  to 
remove  her  mask.  The  voice  that  replied  was  surely  Isolina's  ! 
I  could  myself  have  torn  the  silken  screen  from  her  face,  through 
very  vexation  ;  but  I  was  saved  that  indiscretion,  for  the  re 
quest  of  her  cavalier  seemed  to  prevail,  and  the  next  instant  the 
mask  was  removed  by  the  lady's  own  hand.  Shade  of  Erebus  ! 
what  did  I  see  ?  She  was  black — a  negress !  Not  black  as 
ebony,  but  nearly  so  ;  with  thick  lips,  high  cheek-bones,  and  a 
row  of  short  "  kinky  "  curls  dangling  over  the  arch  of  her  glisk 
ening  forehead  ! 

My  astonishment,  though  perhaps  of  a  more  agreeable  kind, 
was  not  greater  than  that  of  the  dragoon  lieutenant,  who,  by 
the  way,  was  also  a  full-blooded  "  Southerner."  At  sight  of  his 
partner's  face  he  started,  as  if  a  six-pound  shot  had  winded  him; 
and  after  a  few  half-muttered  excuses,  he  rose  with  an  air  of  ex 
treme  gawJierie,  and  hurrying  off,  hid  himself  behind  the  crowd  I 

The  "colored  lady,"  mortified — as  I  presumed  she  mast  be — 


78  THE    WAB-TBAIL. 

hastily  readjnsted  her  mask,  and  rising  from  her  seat,  glided 
away  from  the  scene  of  her  humiliation.  I  gazed  after  her  with 
a  mingled  feeling  of  curiosity  and  pity  ;  I  saw  her  pass  out  of 
the  door  alone,  evidently  with  the  intention  of  leaving  the  ball 
I  fancied  she  had  departed,  as  her  domino,  conspicuous  by  its 
bright  yellow  color,  was  no  more  seen  among  the  maskers. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

THE    BLUE   DOMINO. 

THUS  disappointed,  I  gave  up  all  hope  of  meeting  her  for 
whose  sake  I  had  come  to  the  ball.  She  was  either  not  there, 
or  did  not  wish  to  be  recognized,  even  by  me.  The  latter  suppo 
sition  was  the  more  bitter  of  the  two  ;  and  goaded  by  it  and 
one  or  two  other  uncongenial  thoughts,  I  paid  frequent  visits  to 
the  "  refreshment  room,"  where  wine  flowed  freely.  A  cup  or 
two  drove  the  o'fie  idea,  out  of  my  mind  ;  and  after  a  while,  I 
grew  more  companionable,  and  determined  to  enjoy  myself  like 
others  around  me.  I  had  not  danced  as  yet,  but  the  wine  soon 
got  to  my  toes  as  well  as  into  my  head  ;  and  I  resolved  to  put 
myself  in  motion  with  the  first  partner  that  offered. 

I  soon  found  one — a  blue  domino — that  came  right  in  my  way, 
as  if  the  fates  had  determined  we  should  dance  together.  The 
lady  was  "not  engaged  for  the  next;"  she  would  be  "most 
happy." 

This,  by  the  way,  was  said  in  French,  which  would  have  taken 
me  by  surprise,  had  I  not  known  that  there  were  many  French 

people  living  in  C ,  as  in  all  the  large  cities  of  Mexico.  They 

are  usually  jewellers,  dentists,  milliners,  or  other  artizans  of  that 
class,  who  drive  a  lucrative  trade  among  the  luxury-loving  Mexi- 
tanas.  To  know  there  were  French  people  in  the  place,  was  tc 


THE   BLUE   DOMINO.  79 

be  certain  you  would  find  them  at  the  ball ;  and  there  were  they, 
numbers  of  theia,  pirouetting  ubout,  and  comporting  themselves 
with  the  gay  insouciance  characteristic  of  their  nation.  I  was 
not  surprised,  then,  when  my  blue  domino  addressed  me  in 
French. 

"  A  French  modiste!"  conjectured  I,  as  soon  as  she  spoke. 

Milliner  or  no,  it  mattered  not  to  me  ;  I  wanted  a  dancing 
partner  ;  and  after  another  phrase  or  two  in  the  same  sweet 
tongue,  away  went  she  and  I  in  the  curving  whirl  of  a  waltz. 

After  sailing  once  round  the  room,  I  had  two  quite  new  and 
distinct  impressions  upon  my  mind  :  the  first,  that  I  had  a  part 
ner  who  could  waltz,  a  thing  not  to  be  met  with  every  day.  My 
blue  domino  seemed  to  have  no  feet  under  her,  but  floated  around 
me  as  if  borne  upon  the  air  !  For  the  moment,  I  fancied  myself 
in  Ranelagh  or  Mabille  I  My  other  impression  was,  that  my 
arm  encircled  as  pretty  a  waist  as  ever  was  clasped  by  a  lover. 
There  was  a  pleasing  rotundity  about  it,  combined  with  a  gene 
ral  symmetry  of  form  and  serpentine  yieldiness  of  movement, 
that  rendered  dancing  with  such  a  partner  both  easy  and  delight 
ful.  My  observation  at  the  moment  was,  that  if  the  face  of  the 
modiste  bore  any  sort  of  proportion  to  her  figure,  she  needed  not 
have  come  so  far  from  France  to  push  her  fortuite. 

With  such  a  partner  I  could  not  otherwise  than  waltz  well  ; 
and  never  better  than  upon  that  occasion.  We  were  soon  under 
the  observation  of  the  company,  and  became  the  cynosure  of  a 
circle.  This  I  did  not  relish,  and  drawing  my  blue  domino  to 
one  side,  we  waltzed  towards  a  seat,  into  which  I  handed  her 
with  the  usual  polite  expression  of  thanks. 

This  seat  was  in  a  little  recess  or  blind  window,  where  two 
persons  might  freely  converse  without  fear  of  an  eaves-droppei 
[  had  no  desire  to  run  away  from  a  partner  who  danced  so  well, 
though  she  were  a  modiste.     There  was  room  for  two  upon  the 
bench,  and  I  asked  permission  to  sit  beside  her. 

"  Oh,  certainly,"  was  the  frank  reply. 


80  THE    WAK-TEAIL. 

"  And  will  you  permit  me  to  remain  with  you  till  the 
recommences  ?  " 

"  If  you  desire  it." 

"  And  dance  with  you  again  tn 

"  With  pleasure,  monsieur,  if  it  suit  your  convenience.  But  L 
there  no  other  who  claims  you  as  a  partner  ? — no  other  in  this 
assemblage  you  would  prefer  ?  " 

"  Not  one,  I  assure  you.  You  are  the  only  one  present  with 
whom  I  care  to  dance." 

As  I  said  this,  I  thought  I  perceived  a  slight  movement,  that 
indicated  some  emotion. 

"  It  was  a  gallant  speech,  and  the  modiste  is  pleased  with  the 
compliment,"  thought  I. 

Her  reply  : 

"  It  flatters  me,  sir,  that  you  prefer  my  company  to  that  of 
the  many  splendid  beauties  who  are  in  this  saloon  ;  though  it 
might  gratify  me  still  more  if  you  knew  who  I  am." 

The  last  clause  was  uttered  with  an  emphasis,  and  followed  by 
a  sigh  ! 

"  Poor  girl  !"  thought  I,  "  she  fancies  that  I  mistake  her  for 
some  graud  dame — that  if  I  knew  her  real  position,  her  humble 
avocation,  I  should  no  longer  care  to  dance  with  her.  In  that 
she  is  mistaken.  I  make  no  distinction  between  a  milliner  and  a 
marchioness,  especially  in  a  ball-room.  There,  grace  and  beauty 
alone  guide  to  preference." 

After  giving  way  to  some  such  reflections,  I  replied  ; 

"  It  is  my  regret,  mam'selle,  not  to  have  the  happiness  of 
knowing  you,  and  it  is  not  possible  I  ever  may,  unless  you  will 
have  the  goodness  to  remove  your  mask." 

11  Ah  !  monsieur,  what  you  ask  is  impossible." 

"  Impossible  !  and  why,  may  I  know  ?" 

"  Because,  were  you  to  see  my  face,  I  should  not  have  you 
for  my  partner  in  the  next  dance  ;  and  to  say  the  truth,  I  should 
regret  that,  since  yc  n  waltz  so  admirably." 


THE   BLUE  DOMINO.  31 

"  Ob  !  refusal  and  flattery  in  the  same  breath  !  No,  raam'selle, 
J  am  sure  your  face  will  never  be  the  means  of  your  losing  a 
partner.  Come  !  let  me  beg  of  you  to  remove  that  envious 
counterfeit.  Let  us  converse  freely  face  to  face.  I  am  not 
masked,  as  you  see." 

"  In  truth,  sir,  you  have  no  reason  to  hide  your  face,  which  is 
more  than  I  can  say  for  many  other  men  in  this  room." 

"  Quick-witted  milliner,*'  thought  I,  "  Bravo,  Ranelagh  1 
Yive  la  Mabille  P 

"  Thanks,  amiable  masker  1"  I  replied.  "  But  you  are  too 
generous  :  you  flatter  me " 

"  It  is  worth  while,"  rejoined  she,  interrupting  me  ;  "  it  im 
proves  your  cheek  :  blushes  become  you,  ha,  ha,  ha  !" 

"  The  deuce  !  "  I  ejaculated  half  aloud,  "  this  dame  da  Boule 
vard  is  laughing  at  me  !" 

"  But  what  are  you  ?"  she  continued,  suddenly  changing  her 
tone.  "  You  are  not  a  Mexican  ?  Are  you  soldier  or  civilian  ?" 

"  What  would  you  take  me  for  ?" 

"  A  poet,  from  your  pale  face,  but  more  from  the  manner  in 
which  I  have  heard  you  sigh." 

"  I  have  not  sighed  since  we  sat  down." 

"  No — but  before  we  sat  down." 

"  What !  in  the  dance  ?" 

"  No — before  the  dance." 

"  Ha  I  then  you  observed  me  before  ?" 

14  0  yes  ;  your  plain  dress  rendered  you  conspicuous  among  s<* 
many  uniforms  ;  besides  your  manner " 

"What  manner?"  I  asked,  with  some  degree  of  confusion, 
fearing  that  in  my  search  after  Isolina  I  had  committed  some 
stupid  piece  of  left-haudedness. 

"  Your  abstraction  ;  and,  by  the  way,  had  you  not  a  little 
ptnchant  for  a  yellow  domino  ?" 

"A  yellow  domino ?*'  repeated  I,  raising  my  hand  to  my 

4* 


82  THE   WAE-TBA.IL. 

head,  as  though  it  cost  me  an  effort  to  rememember  it— "a  yel 
low  domi?  j  ?" 

"  A  7,  ay — a  ye-ll-ow  dom-in-o,"  rejoined  my  companion  witb 
8ar?f.^tic  emphasis — "  a  yellow  domino,  who  waltzed  vrith  a 
7".ng  officer — not  bad-looking,  by  the  way." 

"  Ah  I  I  think  I  do  remember " 

"  Well,  I  think  you  ought,"  rejoined  my  tormentor,  "  and  well 
too  :  you  took  sufficient  pains  to  observe" 

"  Ah — aw — yes,"  stammered  I. 

"  I  thought  you  were  conning  verses  to  her,  and  as  you  had 
not  the  advantage  of  seeing  her  face,  were  making  them  to  her 
feet  1" 

"  Ha,  ha  ! — what  an  idea  of  yours,  mad'ni'selle  !" 

"  In  the  end,  she  was  not  ungenerous — she  let  you  see  the 
face  ?" 

"  The  devil  1"  exclaimed  I  starting  ;  "  you  saw  the  denouement 
then  ?" 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha  !"  laughed  she  ;  "of  course  I  saw  the  denoue 
ment,  ha,  ha  ! — drokt  wasn't  it  ?" 

"  Very,"  replied  I,  not  much  relishing  the  joke,  but  endeavor 
ing  to  join  my  companion  in  the  laugh. 

"  How  silly  the  spark  looked  ?  ha,  ha  I" 

"  Very  silly  indeed— ha,  ha,  ha  I" 

"  And  how  disappointed " 

"  Eh  r 

"  How  disappointed  you  looked,  monsieur." 

"Oh — ah — I — no — I  assure  you — I  had  no  interest  in  the 
affair.  I  was  not  disappointed — at  least  not  as  you  imagine." 

"  Ah  I1' 

"  The  feeling  uppermost  in  my  mind  was  pity — pity  for  the 
poor  girl." 

"And  you  really  did  pity  her  ?" 

This  question  was  put  with  an  earnestness  that  sounded  some* 
what  strange  at  the  moment. 


THE  BLUE   DOMINO.  83 

.    »    •' 

"I  really  did.     The  creature  seemed  so  mortified " 

"  She  seemed  mortified,  did  she  ?"  -^ _•>;• 

"  Of  course.  She  left  the  room  immediately  after,  and  has 
QOt  returned  since.  No  doubt  she  has  gone  home,  poor  devil !" 

"  Poor  devil !     Is  that  the  extent  of  your  pity  ?" 

"  Well,  alter  all,  it  must  be  confessed  she  was  a  superb  decep 
tion  :  a  finer  dancer  I  never  saw — I  beg  pardou,  I  except  my 
present  partner — a  good  foot,  an  elegant  figure,  and  then  to  turn 
out " 

"  What  !" 

"  Unanegrilla!" 

"  I  fear,  monsieur,  you  Americans  are  not  very  gallant  towards 
the  ladies  of  color.  It  is  different  here  in  Mexico,  which  you 
term  despotic." 

I  felt  the  rebuke. 

"  To  change  the  subject./'  continued  she  ;  "  are  you  not  a 
poet  ?" 

"  I  do  not  deserve  the  name  of  poet,  yet  I  will  not  deny  that 
I  have  made  verses." 

"  I  thought  as  much.  What  an  instinct  I  have  !  0  that  I 
could  prevail  upon  you  to  write  some  verses  to  me  I" 

"  What !  without  knowing  either  your  name  or  having  looked 
upon  your  face.  Mam'selle,  I  must  at  least  see  the  features  I 
am  called  upon  to  praise." 

"  Ah,  monsieur,  you  little  know  :  were  I  to  unmask  those  fea 
tures,  I  should  stand  but  a  poor  chance  of  getting  the  verses. 
My  plain  face  would  counteract  all  your  poetic  inspirations." 

"  Shade  of  Lucretia  !  this  is  no  needlewoman,  though  dealing 
in  weapons  quite  as  sharp.  Modiste,  indeed  !  I  have  been 
laboring  uuder  a  mistake,  This  is  some  damt  spiiituelle,  some 
grand  lady." 

I  had  now  grown  more  than  curious  to  look  upon  the  face  of 
my  companion.  Her  conversation  had  won  me  :  a  woman  who 
could  tali;  so,  I  fancied,  coulcl  not  be  ill-looking.  Such  an  en- 


84:  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

g 

chanting  spirit  could  not  be  hidden  behind  .a  plain  face  ;  besides, 
there  was  the  gracefulness  of  form,  the  small  gloved  hand,  the 
dainty  foot  and  ankle  demonstrated  in  the  dance,  a  voice  that 
rang  like  music,  and  the  flash  of  a  superb  eye,  which  I  could  per 
ceive  even  through  the  mask.  Beyond  a  doubt,  she  was  beautiful. 
"  Lady  !"  I  said,  speaking  with  more  earnestness  than  ever, 
"  I  entreat  you  to  unmask  yourself.  Were  it  not  in  a  ball-room, 
1  should  beg  the  favor  upon  my  knees." 

"  And  were  I  to  grant  it,  you  could  hardly  rise  soon  enough, 
and  pronounce  your  lukewarm  leave-taking.  Ha,  monsieur  ! 
think  of  the  yellow  domino  I  " 

"  Mam'selle,  you  take  pleasure  in  mortifying  me.  Bo  you 
deem  me  capable  of  such  fickleness  ?  Suppose  for  a  moment 
you  are  not  what  the  world  calls  beautiful,  you  could  not  by  re 
moving  your  mask,  also  strip  yourself  of  the  attractions  of  your 
conversation — of  that  voice  that  thrills  through  my  heart — of 
that  grace  exhibited  in  your  every  movement !  With  such  en 
dowments,  how  could  a  woman  appear  ill-looking  ?  If  your  face 
was  even  as  black  as  hers  of  the  yellow  domino,  I  verily  believe 
I  could  not  perceive  its  darkness." 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha  I  take  care  what  you  say,  monsieur.  I  presume 
you  are  not  more  indulgent  than  the  rest  of  your  sex  ;  and  well 
know  I  that,  with  you  men,  ugliness  is  the  greatest  crime  of  a 
woman." 

ft  I  am  different,  I  swear " 

"  Do  not  perjure  yourself,  as  you  will  if  I  but  remove  uny 
mask.  I  tell  you,  sir,  that  in  spite  of  all  the  fine  qualities  you 
imagine  me  to  possess,  I  am  a  vision  that  would  horrify  you  to 
look  upon." 

"  Impossible  ! — your  form,  your  grace,  your  voice.  Oh,  un 
mask  1  I  accept  every  consequence  for  the  favor  I  ask." 

"  Then  be  it  as  you  wish  ;  but  I  shall  not  be  the  means  of 
punishing  you.  Receive  from  your  own  hands  the  chastisement 
of  your  cu,rJQsity." 


THE   BLUE    DOMINO.  85 

"  You  permit  me,  then  ?  Thanks,  mam'selle,  thanks  1  It  is 
fastened  behind  :  yes,  the  knot  is  here — now  I  have  it — so — 
so » 

With  trembling  fingers,  I  undid  the  string,  and  pulled  off  the 
piece  of  taffety.  Shade  of  Sheba  1  what  did  I  see  ?  " 

The  mask  fell  from  my  fingers,  as  though  it  had  been  iron  at 
a  cherry  heat.  Astonishment  caused  me  to  drop  it ;  rather  say 
horror — horror  at  beholding  the  face  underneath — the  face  of  the 
ydlow*domino !  Yes,  there  was  the  same  negress  with  her 
thick  lips,  high  cheei-bones,  and  the  little  well-oiled  kinks  hang 
ing  like  corkscrews  over  her  temples  ! 

I  knew  not  either  what  to  say  or  do  ;  my  gallantry  was  clean 
gone  ;  and  although  I  resumed  my  seat,  I  remained  perfectly 
dumb.  Had  I  looked  in  a  mirror  at  that  moment,  I  should  cer 
tainly  have  beheld  the  face  of  a  fool. 

My  companion,  who  seemed  to  have  made  up  her  mind  to  such 
a  result,  instead  of  being  mortified,  burst  into  a  loud  fit  of 
laughter,  at  the  same  time  crying  out  in  a  tone  of  raillery:  "  Now, 
Monsieur  le  Poete,  does  my  face  inspire  you  ?  When  may  I  ex 
pect  the  verses  ?  To-morrow  ?  Soon  ?  Never  ?  Ah  !  mon 
sieur,  I  fear  you  arc  not  more  gallant  to  us  poor  "  ladies  ob 
rolcr''  than  your  countryman  the  lieutenant.  Ha,  ha,  ha  I " 

I  was  too  much  ashamed  of  my  own  conduct,  and  too  deeply 
wounded  by  her  reproach,  to  make  reply.  Fortunately,  her  con 
tinued  laughter  offered  me  an  opportunity  to  mutter  some 
broken  phrases,  accompanied  by  very  clumsy  gestures,  and  thus 
take  myself  off.  Certainly,  in  all  my  life,  I  never  made  a  more 
awkward  adieu.  I  walked,  or  rather  stole}  towards  the  entrance, 
determined  to  leave  the  ball-room,  and  gallop  home.  On  reach 
ing  the  door,  my  curiosity  grew  stronger  than  my  shame  !  and  I 
resolved  to  take  a  parting  look  at  this  singular  Ethiopian.  The 
blue  domino,  still  within  the  niche,  caught  my  eye  at  onc.e  ;  but 
on  looking  up  to  the  face — gracious  Heaven  !  it  was  Isolinas  f 

I  stood  as  if  turned  into  stone.     My  gaze  was  fixed  upon  her 


66  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

face,  and  I  could  not  take  it  off.  She  was  looking  at  me  :  bat, 
oh  1  the  expression  witli  which  those  eyes  regarded  me  1  That 
was  a  glance  to  be  remembered  for  life.  She  no  longer  laughed, 
but  her  proud  lip  seemed  to  carl  with  a  sarcastic  smile,  as  of 
scorn  ! 

I  hesitated  whether  to  return  and  apologize.  But  no  ;  it  was 
too  late.  I  could  have  fallen  upon  my  knees,  and  begged  for 
giveness.  It  was  too  late.  I  should  only  subject  myself  to  fur 
ther  ridicule  from  that  capricious  spirit.  » 

Perhaps  my  look  of  remorse  had  more  effect  than  words.  I 
thought  her  expression  changed  ;  her  glance  became  more  tender, 
as  if  inviting  me  back  !  Perhaps ^;V 

At  this  moment,  a  man  approached,  and,  without  much  cere 
mony,  seated  himself  by  her  side.  His  face  was  towards  me — 
I  recognized  Ijurra  1 

They  converse.  Is  it  of  me  1  Is  it  of ?  If  so,  he  will 

laugh.  A  world  to  see  that  man  laugh,  and  know  it  is  at  me 
If  he  do,  I  shall  soon  cast  off  the  load  that  is  crushing  my  heart  ! 

He  laughs  not — not  even  a  smile  is  traceable  on  his  sombre 
features.  She  has  not  told  him,  and  well  for  him  she  has  not 
Prudence,  perchance,  restrains  her  tongue  ;  she  might  guess  the 
result. 

They  are  on  their  feet  again  ;  she  masks.  Ijurra  leads  her  to 
the  dance  ;  they  front  to  each  other  ;  they  whirl  away — away  • 

they  are  lost  among  the  maskers  ! 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

"  Some  wine,  mozo  I" 

A  deep  long  draught,  a  few  seconds  spent  in  buckling  on  my 
sword,  a  few  more  in  reaching  the  gate,  one  spring,  and  my 
saddled  steed  was  under  me. 

I  rode  with  desperate  heart  and  hot  head  ;  but  the  cool  night- 
air,  the  motion  of  my  horse,  and  his  proud  spirit,  mingling  with 
mine,  gave  me  relief,  and  I  felt  calmer.  On  reaching  the  ran- 
cheria,  I  found  my  lieutenants  still  up,  eating  their  rudely  cooked 


LOVE-THOUGHTS.  87 

eopper.  As  my  appetite  was  roused,  I  joined  them  at  their 
meal  ;  and  their  friendly  converse  restored  for  the  tiina  my 
spirit's  equanimity. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

LOVE-THOUGHTS. 

A  DREAD  feeling  is  jealousy,  mortified  vanity,  or  whatever  yon 
may  designate  the  disappointment  of  love.  I  have  experienced 
the  sting  of  shame,  the  blight  of  broken  fortune,  the  fear  of  death 
itself ;  yet  none  of  these  ever  wrung  my  heart  so  rudely  as  the 
pang  of  an  unreciprocated  passion.  The  former  are  but  transient 
trials,  and  their  bitterness  soon  has  an  end.  Jealousy,  like  the 
tooth  of  the  serpent,  leaves  its  poison  in  the  sting,  and  long  and 
slow  is  the  healing  of  its  wound.  Well  knew  he  this,  that  master 
of  the  human  heart :  lago's  prayer  was  not  meant  for  mockery. 

To  drown  my  mortification,  I  had  drunk  wine  freely  at  the 
ball  ;  and  on  returning  home,  had  continued  my  potations  with 
the  more  fiery  spirit  of  "  Catalan."  By  this  means  I  gained 
relief  and  sleep,  but  only  of  short  duration.  Long  before  day  I 
was  awake — awake  to  the  double  bitterness  of  jealousy  and 
shame — awake  to  both  mental  and  physical  pain,  for  the  fumes 
of  the  vile  stuff  I  had  drunk  wracked  my  brain,  as  though  they 
would  burst  open  my  skull.  An  ounce  of  opium  would  not  have 
set  me  to  sleep  again,  and  I  tossed  in  my  couch  like  one  laboring 
under  delirium. 

Of  course  the  incidents  of  the  proceeding  night  were  upper 
most  in  my  mind.  Every  scene  and  action  that  had  occurred, 
were  as  plainly  before  me,  as  if  I  was  again  witnessing  them. 
Every  effort  to  alienate  my  thoughts,  and  fix  them  upon  some 
other  theme,  proved  vain  and  idle  j  they  ever  returned  to  the 


88  THE   WAJt-TBAIL. 

same  circle  of  reflections,  in  the  centre  of  which  wat  Isolina  cle 
Vargas  1  I  thought  of  all  that  had  passed,  of  all  she  had  said. 
I  remembered  every  word.  How  bitterly  I  remembered  that 
scornful  laugh  ! — how  bitterly  that  sarcastic  smile,  when  the 
double  mask  was  removed  ! 

The  very  remembrance  of  her  beauty  pained  ine  !  It  was  now 
to  me  as  to  Tantalus  the  crystal  waters,  never  to  be  tasted 
Before,  I  had  formed  hopes,  had  indulged  in  prospective  dreams : 
the  masquerade  adventure  had  dissipated  them.  I  no  longer 
hoped,  no  longer  permitted  myself  to  dream  of  pleasant  times  to 
come  :  I  felt  that  I  was  scorned. 

This  feeling  produced  a  momentary  revulsion  in  my  thoughts. 
There  were  moments  when  I  hated  her,  and  vengeful  impulses 
•areered  across  my  soul. 

These  were  fleeting  moments  :  again  before  me  rose  that 
lovely  form,  that  proud  grand  spirit,  in  the  full  entirety  of  it? 
power,  and  again  my  soul  became  absorbed  in  admiration,  and 
yielded  itself  to  its  hopeless  passion.  It  was  far  from  being  my 
first  love,  and,  thus  experienced,  I  could  reason  npon  it.  I  felt 
certain  it  was  to  be  the  strongest  and  stormiest  of  rny  life. 

I  know  of  three  loves  distinct  in  kind  and  power.  First, 
when  the  passion  is  reciprocated — when  the  heart  of  the  beloved 
yields  back  thought  for  thought,  and  throb  for  throb,  without 
one  reserved  pulsation.  This  is  bliss  upon  earth — not  alway? 
long-lived — ending  perchance  in  a  species  of  sublimated  friend 
ship.  To  have  is  no  longer  to  desire. 

The  second  is  love  entirely  unrequited — love  that  never  knew 
word  or  smile  of  encouragement,  no  soft  whisper  to  fan  it  into 
flame,  no  ray  of  hope  to  feed  upon.  Such  dies  of  inanition,  the, 
sooner  that  its  object  is  out  of  the  way,  and  absence  will  con* 
quer  it  in  time. 

The  third  is  the  love  that  "dotes  yet  doubts,"  that  doubts 
but  never  dies — no,  never.  The  jealousy  that  pains,  only  sus 
it  ;  it  lives  on,  now  happy  in  the  honeyed  conviction  o* 


LOVE-THOUGHTS.  89 

I 

•  triumph,  now  smarting  under  real  or  fancied  scorn — on,  on,  so 
long  as  its  object  is  accessible  to  sight  or  hearing  I  No  matter 
how  worthless  that  object  may  be  or  become — no  matter  how 
lost  or  fallen  :  love  regards  not  this.  It  has  naught  to  do  with 
the  moral  part  of  our  nature.  Beauty  is  the  shrine  ( tf  its  wor 
ship,  aud  beauty  is  not  morality. 

In  my  own  mind,  I  am  conscious  of  three  elements  or  classes 
of  feeling  :  the  moral,  the  intellectual,  aud  what  I  ma)  term  the 
passional — the  last  as  distinct  from  either  of  the  other  two  as 
oil  from  spirits  or  water.  To  the  last  belongs  love,  which  I 
repeat  again,  has  no  sympathy  with  the  moral  feelings  of  our 
nature,  but  alas  !  as  one  might  almost  believe,  with  their 
opposite.  Even  a  plain  but  wicked  coquette  will  captivate 
more  hearts  than  a  beautiful  saint,  and  the  brilliant  murderess, 
ere  now,  has  made  conquests  at  the  very  foot  of  the  scaffold  1 

It  pains  me  to  pronounce  these  convictions,  derived  as  they 
are  from  experience.  There  is  as  little  gain  as  pleasure  in  so 
doing,  but  popularity  must  be  sacrificed  at  the  shrine  of  truth. 
For  the  sake  of  effect,  I  shall  not  play  false  with  philosophy. 

Rough  ranger  as  I  was,  I  had  studied  psychology  sufficiently 
to  understand  these  truths  ;  and  I  endeavored  to  analyze  my 
passion-  for  this  girl  or  woman — to  discover  why  I  loved  her. 
Her  physical  beauty  was  of  the  highest  order,  and  that  no  doubt 
was  an  element  ;  but  it  was  not  all.  Had  I  merely  looked  upon 
this  beauty  under  ordinary  circumstances — that  is,  without  com 
ing  in  contact  with  the  spirit  that  animated  it — I  might  havt 
loved  her,  or  I  might  not.  It  was  the  spirit,  then,  that  bad  won 
me,  though  not  alone.  The  same  gem  in  a  less  brilliant  setting 
mioiit  have  failed  to  draw  my  admiration.  I  was  the  captive 
both  of  the  spirit  and  the  form.  Soul  aud  body  had  co-operated 
iu  producing  my  passion,  and  this  may  account  for  its  suddenness 
and  profundity.  Why  I  loved  her  person,  I  knew — I  was  not 
ignorant  of  the  laws  of  beauty — but  why  the  spirit,  I  knew  not 
Certainly  not  from  any  idea  I  had  formed  of  her  high  mora. 


90  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

qualities  ;  I  had  no  evidence  of  these.  Of  her  courage,  even  to 
daring,  I  had  proof;  of  energy  and  determined  will  ;  of  the 
power  of  thought,  quick  and  versatile  ;  but  these  arc  not  moral 
qualities,  they  are  not  even  feminine,  ?  True,  she  wept  over  her 
slain  steed.  Humanity/  I  have  known  a  hardened  lorette  weep 
bitter  tears  for  her  tortoise-shell  cat.  She  refused  to  take  from 
me  my  horse.  Generosity  ?  She  had  a  thousand  within  sight. 
Alas  1  in  thus  reviewing  all  that  had  passed  between  myself 
and  the  beautiful  Isolina,  in  search  of  her  moral  qualities,  I  met 
with  but  little  success  ! 

Mystery  of  our  nature  !  I  loved  her  not  the  less  !  And  yet 
my  passion  was  pure,  and  I  do  not  believe  that  my  heart  was 
wicked.  Mystery  of  our  nature  !  He  who  reads  all  hearts 
alone  can  solve  thee  ! 

I  loved  without  reason  ;  but  I  loved  now  without  hope. 
Hope  I  had  before  that  night.  Her  glance  through  the  turrets 
— her  note — its  contents — a  word  or  two  at  other  times,  had 
inspired  me  with  hopes,  however  faint  they  were.  The  incident 
in  the  ball-room  had  crushed  them. 

Ijurra's  dark  face  kept  lowering  before  me  ;  even  in  my 
visions  he  was  always  by  her  side.  What  was  between  the 
two  ?  Perhaps  a  nearer  relationship  than  that  of  cousin  ?  Per 
haps  they  were  affianced  ?  Married  ? 

The  thought  maddened  me. 

I  could  rest  upon  my  couch  no  longer.  I  rose  and  sought  the 
open  air  ;  I  climbed  to  the  azotea,  and  paced  it  to  and  fro,  as 
the  tiger  walks  his  cage.  My  thoughts  were  wild,  and  my 
movements  without  method.  To  add  to  the  bitterness  of  my 
reflections,  I  now  discovered  that  I  had  sustained  a  loss — not  in 
property,  but  something  that  annoyed  me  still  more.  I  had  lost 
the  order  and  its  enclosure — the  note  of  Don  Ramon.  I  had 
dropped  them  on  the  day  in  which  they  were  received,  and  I 
believed  in  the  patio  of  the  hacienda,  where  they  must  have  been 
picked  up  at  once.  If  by  Don  Ramon  himself,  then  all  was  well; 


AN    ODD   EPISTLE.  91 

but  if  they  had  fallen  \uto  the  hands  of  some  of  the  leathern-clad 
herdsmen,  ill  affected  to  Don  Ramon,  it  mi->-ht  be  an  awkward 

'  /  3 

affair  for  that  gentleman — indeed  for  myself.  Such  negligence 
would  scarcely  be  overlooked  at  head-quarters  ;  and  I  had  ill- 
forebodings  about  the  result.  It  was  one  of  my  soul's  darkest 
hours. 

From  its  very  darkness  I  might  have  known  that  light  was 
near,  for  the  proverb  is  equally  true  in  the  moral  as  in  the  mate 
rial  world.  Light  was  near. 


CHAPTER    XV 

AN    ODD    EPISTLE. 

BREAKFAST  I  hardly  tasted.  A  taso  of  chocolate  and  a  small 
sugared  cake — the  demyuna  of  every  Mexican — were  brought, 
and  these  served  me  for  breakfast.  A  glass  of  cognac  and  a 
Havanna  were  more  to  the  purpose,  and  helped  to  st>ay  the  wild 
trembling  of  my  nerves.  Fortunately,  there  was  no  duty  to 
perform,  else  I  could  ill  have  attended  to  it.  I  remained  on  the 
azotea  till  near  mid-day.  The  storm  raging  within  prevented 
me  from  taking  note  of  what  was  passing  around.  The  scenes 
in  theplviza,  the  rangers  and  their  steeds,  the  "  greasers"  in  their 
striped  blankets,  the  Indias  squatted  on  their  petates,  the  pretty 
poblanfts,  were  all  unnoticed  by  me.  At  intervals,  my  eyes 
rested  upon  the  walls  of  the  distant  dwelling ;  it  was  not  so  dis 
tant  but  that  a  human  form  could  have  been  distinguished  upon 
its  roof,  had  one  been  there.  There  was  none,  and  twenty,  ay 
fifty  times,  did  I  turn  away  my  disappointed  gaze. 

About  noon,  the  sergeant  of  the. guard  reported  that  a  Mexi 
can  wished  to  speak  with  me  :  mechanically,  I  gave  orders  foi 


THE    WAK-TKAJL. 

the  man  to  be  sent  up  ;  but  it  was  not  until  he  appeared  before 
me  that  I  thought  of  what  I  was  doing. 

The  presence  of  the  Mexican  at  once  roused  me  from  my  un 
pleasant  reverie.  I  recognised  him  as  one  of  the  vaqueros  of 
Don  Ramon  de  Vargas  —  the  same  I  had  seen  on  the  plain  during 
my  first  interview  with  Isolina. 

There  was  something  in  his  manner  that  betokened  him  a 
messenger.  A  folded  note,  which  he  drew  from  under  his  jerkin 
—  after  having  glanced  around  to  see  whether  he  was  noticed  — 
confirmed  my  observation. 

I  took  the  note.  There  was  no  superscription,  nor  did  I  stay 
to  look  for  one.  My  fingers  trembled  as  I  tore  open  the  seal 
As  my  eye  rested  on  the  writing  and  recognised  it,  my  heart 
throbbed  so  as  almost  to  choke  my  utterance.  I  muttered  some 
directions  to  the  messenger  ;  and  to  conceal  my  emotion  from 
him,  I  turned  away  and  proceeded  to  the  furthest  corner  of  the 
azotea  before  reading  the  note.  I  called  back  to  the  man  to  go 
below,  and  wait  for  an  answer  ;  and,  then  relieved  of  his  pre 
sence,  I  read  as  follows  : 


"  Gallant  capitan  !  allow  me  to  bid  you  a  buenas  dias,  for  I 
presume  that,  after  the  fatigues  of  last  night,  it  is  but  morning 
with  you  yet.  Did  you  dream  of  your  sable  belle  ?  '  Poor 
devil  1'  Ha,  ha,  ha!  Gallant  capitan!" 

I  was  provoked  at  this  mode  of  address,  for  the  "  gallant  " 
was  rendered  emphatic  by  underlining.  It  was  a  letter  to  taunt 
me  for  my  ill  behaviour.  I  felt  inclined  to  fling  it  down,  but  my 
eye  wandering  over  the  paper,  caught  some  words  that  induced 
me  to  read  on. 

"  Gallant  capitan  !  I  had  a  favorite  mare.  How  fond  I  was 
of  that  creature  you  may  understand,  who  are  afflicted  by  a 
similar  affection  for  the  noble  Moro.  In  an  evil  hour,  your  aim, 
too  true,  alas  !  robbed  me  of  my  favorite,  but  you  offered  tc 


AN   ODD   EPISTLE.  93 

repay  me  by  robbing  yourself,  for  well  know  I  that  the  black  is 
to  you  the  dearest  object  upon  earth.  Indeed,  were  I  the  lady  of 
your  love,  I  should  ill  brook  such  a  divided  affection  !  Well, 
mio  capitan,  I  understood  the  generous  sacrifice  you  would  have 
made,  and  forbade  it  ;  but  I  know  you  are  desirous  of  cancelling 
your  debt.  It  is  in  your  power  to  do  so.  Listen  1" 

Some  hard  conditions  I  anticipated  would  follow  ;  I  recked 
not  of  that.  There  was  no  sacrifice  I  was  not  ready  to  make. 
I  would  have  dared  any  deed,  however  wild,  to  hare  won  that 
proud  heart,  to  have  inoculated  it  with  the  pain  that  was  wring 
ing  my  own.  I  read  on  : 

"  There  is  a  horse,  famed  in  these  parts  as  the  '  white  Steed 
of  the  Prairies '  (el  cavallo  bianco  de  los  llanos).  He  is  a  wild 
horse,  of  course  ;  snow-white  in  color,  beautiful  in  form,  swift  as 

the  swallow .     But  why  need  I  describe  to  you  the  *  white 

steed  of  the  prairies  ?'  you  are  a  Tejano,  and  must  have  heard 
of  him  ere  this  ?  Well,  mio  capitan,  I  have  long  had  a  desire — 
a  frantic  one,  let  me  add — to  possess  this  horse.  I  have  offered 
rewards  to  hunters — to  our  own  vaqueros,  for  he  sometimes  ap 
pears  upon  our  plains — but  to  no  purpose.  Not  one  of  them  can 
capture,  though  they  have  often  seen  and  chased  him.  Some  say . 
that  he  cannot  be  taken,  that  he  is  so  fleet  as  to  gallop,  or  rather 
glide  out  of  sight  in  a  glance,  and  that,  too,  on  the  open 
prairie  !  There  are  those  who  assert  that  he  is  a  phantom,  un 
demonio !  Surely  so  beautiful  a  creature  cannot  be  the  devil  ? 
Besides,  I  have  always  heard — and,  if  I  recollect  aright,  some 
one  said  so  last  night — that  the  devil  was  Hack.  '  Poor 
devil  I>  Ha,  ha,  ha  1" 

I  rather  welcomed  this  allusion  co  my  misconduct  of  the  pre 
ceding  night,  for  I  began  to  feel  easier  under  the  perception  that 
the  whole  affair  was  thus  treated  in  jest,  instead  of  the  anger  and 
scorn  I  had  anticipated.  With  pleasanter  presentiments,  J 
read  on  : 


94:  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

"  To  the  point,  mio  capitan.  There  are  some  incredulous  peo 
ple  who  believe  the  white  steed  of  the  prairies  to  be  a  myth,  and 
deny  his  existence  altogether.  Carrambo !  I  know  that  he  dots 
exist,  and,  what  is  more  to  my  present  purpose,  he  is — or  was, 
but  two  hours  ago — within  ten  miles  of  where  I  am  writing  this 
note  !  One  of  our  vaqueros  saw  him  near  the  banks  of  a  beau 
tiful  arroyo  river,  which  I  know  to  be  his  favorite  ground.  For 
reasons  known  to  me,  the  vaquero  did  not  either  chase  or  molest 
him  ;  but  in  breathless  haste  brought  me  the  news. 

"  Now,  capitau,  gallant  and  grand  I  there  is  but  one  who  can 
capture  this  famed  horse,  and  that  is  your  puissant  self  I  Ah  1 
you  have  made  captive  what  was  once  as  wild  and  free.  Yes  !  you 
can  do  it — you  and  Moro  1 

"  Bring  me  the  white  steed  of  the  prairies  !  I  shall  cease  to 
grieve  for  poor  Lola.  I  shall  forgive  you  that  contratiempo.  I 
shall  forgive  all — even  your  rudeness  to  my  double  mask.  Ha, 
ha,  ha  !  Bring  me  the  white  steed  1  the  white  steed  ! 

"  ISOLINA." 

As  I  finished  reading  this  singular  epistle,  a  thrill  of  pleasure 
ran  through  my  veins.  I  dwelt  not  on  the  oddness  of  its  contents, 
thoroughly  characteristic  of  the  writer.  Its  meaning  was  cleai 
enough, 

1  had  heard  of  the  white  horse  of  the  prairies — what  hunter 
or  trapper,  trader  or  traveller,  throughout  all  the  wild  borders 
of  prairie-land,  has  not  ?  Many  a  romantic  story  of  him  had  I 
listened  to  around  the  blazing  camp-fire — many  a  tale  of  Ger 
man-like  diablerie,  in  which  the  white  horse  played  hero.  For 
nearly  a  century  has  he  figured  in  the  legends  of  the  prairie 
"  mariner  " — a  counterpart  to  the  Flying  Dutchman — the 
"phantom-ship"  of  the  forecastle.  Like  this,  too,  ubiquitous 
— seen  to-day  scouring  the  sandy  plains  of  the  Platte,  to-morrow 
bounding  over  the  broad  llanos  of  Texas,  a  thousand  miles  to 
the  southward  I 


AN   ODD   EPISTLE.  #5 

/ 

That  there  existed  a  white  stallion  of  great  speed  and  splendid 
proportions — that  there  were  twenty,  perhaps  a  hundred  such — 
among  the  countless  herds  of  wild  horses  that  roam  over  the 
great  plains,  I  did  not  for  a  moment  doubt.  I  myself  had  seen 
and  chased  more  than  one  that  might  have  been  termed  "  a  mag 
nificent  animal,"  and  that  no  ordinary  horse  could  overtake;  but 
the  one  known  as  "the  white  steed  of  the  prairies"  had  a 
peculiar  marking,  that  distinguished  him  from  all  the  rest — his 
ears  were  blade ! — only  his  ears,  and  these  were  of  the  deep  color 
cf  ebony.  The  rest  of  his  body,  mane  and  tail,  was  white  as 
fresh-fallen  snow. 

It  was  to  this  singular  and  mysterious  animal  that  the  letter 
pointed  ;  it  was  the  black-eared  steed  I  was  called  upon  to  cap 
ture.  The  contents  of  the  note  were  specific  and  plain.  One 
expression  alone  puzzled  me :  "  You  have  made  captive  what  was 
once  as  wild  and  free."  What  ?  I  asked  myself.  I  scarce 
dared  to  give  credence  to  the  answer  that  leaped  liked  an  exult 
ing  echo  from  out  my  heart  ! 

There  was  a  postscript,  of  course  ;  but  this  contained  only 
"  business."  It  gave  minuter  details  as  to  when,  how,  and  where 
the  white  horse  had  been  seen,  and  stated  that  the  bearer  of  the 
note — the  vaquero  who  had  seen  him — would  act  as  my  guide. 

I  pondered  not  long  upon  the  strange  request.  Its  fulfilment 
promised  to  recover  me  the  position,  which  but  a  moment  before 
I  bad  looked  upon  as  lost  for  ever.  I  at  once  resolved  upon  the 
undertaking. 

"  Yes,  lovely  Isolina  !  if  horse  and  man  can  do  it,  ere  another 
sun  sets,  you  shall  be  mistress  of  the  white  stead  of  the  prairies  /" 


THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

CHAPTER    XVI. 

THE   MANADA. 

IN  half  an  hour  after,  with  the  vaquero  for  my  guide,  I  rode 
quietly  out  of  the  rancheria.  A  dozen  rangers  followed  close 
behind  ;  and  having  crossed  the  river  at  a  ford  nearly  opposite 
the  village,  we  struck  off  into  the  chapparal  on  the  opposite 
side. 

The  men  whom  I  had  chosen  to  accompany  me  were  all  old 
hunters,  fellows  who  could  "trail"  and  "  crease"  with  accurate 
aim.  I  had  confidence  in  their  skill,  and,  aided  by  them,  I  had 
great  hopes  we  should  find  the  game  we  were  iii  search  of.  My 
hopes,  however,  would  not  have  been  so  sanguine  but  for  anothe. 
circumstance,  it  was  this  :  Our  guide  had  informed  me,  that  when 
he  saw  the  white  steed,  the  latter  was  in  company  with  a  large 
drove  of  mares — a  manada, — doubtless  his  harem.  He  would 
not  be  likely  to  separate  from  them,  and  even  if  these  had  since 
left  the  ground,  they  could  be  the  more  easily  "  trailed,"  in  con 
sequence  of  their  numbers.  Indeed,  but  for  this  prospect,  our 
wild-horse  hunt  would  have  partaken  largely  of  the  character  of 
a  "  wild-goose  chase."  The  steed,  by  all  accounts  of  him,  might 
have  been  seen  upon  one  arroyo  to-day,  and  by  the  banks  of 
some  other  stream,  a  hundred  miles  off,  on  the  morrow.  The 
presence  of  his  manada  offered  some  guarantee,  that  he  might 
still  be  near  the  ground  where  the  vaquero  had  marked  him. 
Once  found,  I  trusted  to  the  swiftness  of  my  horse,  and  my  own 
skill  in  the  use  of  the  lazo. 

As  we  rode  along,  I  revealed  to  my  followers  the  purpose  of 
the  expedition.  All  of  them  knew  the  white  steed  by  fame  ; 
one  or  two  averred  they  had  seen  him  in  their  prairie  wander- 


THE    MANADA.  97 

ings.  The  whole  party  were  delighted  at  the  idea  of  such  a 
"  scout,"  and  exhibited  as  much  excitement  as  if  I  was  leading 
them  to  a  skirmish  with  guerilleros  ! 

The  country  through  which  we  passed  was  at  first  a  dense 
chapparal,  consisting  of  the  various  thorny  shrubs  and  plants  for 
which  this  part  of  Mexico  is  so  celebrated.  The  greater  pro 
portion  belonged  to  the  family  of  leguminosa — robinias,  gkdit- 
schias,  and  the  Texan  acacias  of  more  than  one  species,  there 
known  as  mezquite.  Aloes,  too,  formed  part  of  the  undergrowth, 
to  the  no  small  annoyance  of  the  traveller — the  wild  species 
known  as  the  lechuguilla,  or  pita-plant,  whose  core  is  cooked  for 
food,  whose  fibrous  leaves  serve  for  the  manufacture  of  thread, 
cordage,  or  cloth — while  its  sap  yields  by  distillation  the  fiery 
mezcal.  Here  and  there,  a  tree  yucca  grew  by  the  way,  its 
fascicles  of  rigid  leaves  reminding  one  of  the  plumed  heads  of 
Indian  warriors.  Some  I  saw  with  edible  fruits  growing  in 
clusters,  like  bunches  of  bananas.  Several  species  are  there  of 
these  fruit-bearing  yuccas  in  the  region  of  the  Rio  Grande,  as 
yet  unknown  to  the  scientific  botanist.  I  observed  also  the 
palmitta,  or  soap-plant,  another  yucca,  whose  roots  yield  an 
excellent  substitute  for  soap  ;  and  various  forms  of  cactus — 
never  out  of  sight  on  Mexican  soil — grew  thickly  around,  a  cha 
racteristic  feature  of  the  landscape.  Plants  of  humbler  stature 
covered  the  surface,  among  which  the  syngenesists  predominated; 
while  the  fetid  artemisia,  and  the  still  more  disagreeable  odorous 
creosote  plant  (Larrea  Mexicana),  grew  upon  spots  that  were 
sandy  and  arid.  Pleasanter  objects  to  the  eye  were  the  scarlet 
panicles  of  the  Fouquiera  splendens,  then  undescribed  by  bota 
nists,  and  yet  to  become  a  favorite  of  the  arboreturns.  I  was  in 
no  mood  for  botanising  at  the  time,  but  I  well  remember  how  I 
admired  this  elegant  species — its  tall  culm-like  stems,  sur 
mounted  by  panicles  of  brilliant  flowers,  rising  high  above  the 
level  of  the  surrounding  thicket,  like  banners  above  a  host.  Not 

that  I  possess  the  refined  taste  of  a  lover  of  flowers,  and  mnch 

I 


98  THE    WAK-TRAIL. 

less  then  ;  but  cold  must  be  the  heart  that  could  look  upon  the 
floral  beauty  of  Mexico  without  remembering  some  portion  of  its 
charms.  Even  the  rudest  of  my  followers  could  not  otherwise 
than  admire  ;  and  once  or  twice,  as  we  journeyed  along,  I  could 
hear  them  give  utterance  to  that  fine  epithet  of  the  heart's 
desire,  "  Beautiful  !" 

As  we  advanced,  the  aspect  changed.  The  surface  became 
freer  of  jungle  ;  a  succession  of  glade  and  thicket  ;  in  short,  a 
"  mesquite  prairie."  Still  advancing,  the  "openings"  became 
larger,  while  the  timbered  surface  diminished  in  extent,  and  now 
and  then  the  glades  joined  each  other  without  interruption. 

We  had  ridden  nearly  ten  miles  without  drawing  bridle,  when 
our  guide  struck  upon  the  trail  of  the  manada.  Several  of  the 
old  hunters,  without  dismounting,  pronounced  the  tracks  to  be 
those  of  wild  mares,  which  they  easily  distinguished  from  horse 
tracks.  Their  judgment  proved  correct  ;  for  following  the  trail 
but  a  short  distance  further,  we  came  full  in  sight  of  the  drove, 
which  the  vaquero  confidently  pronounced  was  the  manada  we 
were  in  search  of ! 

So  far  our  success  equalled  our  expectations  ;  but  to  get  sight 
of  a  caballada  of  wild  horses,  and  to  capture  its  swiftest  steed,  are 
two  things  of  very  unequal  difficulty.  This  fact  my  anxiously 
beating  heart  and  quickly  throbbing  pulse  revealed  to  me  at  the 
moment.  It  would  be  difficult  to  describe  the  mingled  feelings 
of  anxious  doubt  and  joyous  hope  that  passed  through  my  mind, 
as  from  afar  off  I  gazed  upon  that  shy  herd,  still  unconscious  of 
our  approach. 

The  prairie  upon  which  the  mares  were  browsing  was  more 
than  a  mile  in  width,  and,  like  those  we  had  been  passing 
through,  it  was  surrounded  by  the  low  chapparal  forest,  al 
though  there  were  avenues  that  communicated  with  other  open 
ings  of  a  similar  kind.  Near  its  centre  was  the  manada.  Some 
of  the  mares  were  quietly  browsing  upon  the  grass,  while  others 
were  frisking  and  playing  about,  now  rearing  up  as  if  in  combat, 


THE    MAN AD A  .  99 

now  rushing  in  wild  gallop,  their  tossed  manes  and  full  tails 
flung  loosely  upon  the  wind.  Even  in  the  distance  we  could 
trace  the  full  rouuded  development  of  their  bodies,  and  their 
smooth  coats,  glistening  under  the  sun,  denoted  their  fair  condi 
tion.  They  were  of  all  colors  known  to  the  horse,  for  in  this  the 
race  of  the  Spanish  horse  is  somewhat  peculiar.  There  were 
bays,  and  blacks,  and  whites — the  last  being  most  numerous. 
There  were  greys,  both  iron  and  roan,  and  duns  with  white  manes 
and  tails,  and  some  of  a  mole  color,  and  not  a  few  of  the  kind 
known  in  Mexico  as  pintados  (piebalds) — for  spotted  horses  are 
not  uncommon  among  the  mustangs — all  of  course  with  full 
manes  and  tails,  since  the  mutilating  shears  of  the  jockey  had 
never  curtailed  their  flowing  glories. 

But  where  was  the  lord  of  this  splendid  harem  ? — where  the, 
steed  ?  This  was  the  thought  that  was  uppermost  in  the  mind 
of  all,  the  question  upon  every  tongue.  Our  eyes  wandered  over 
the  herd,  now  here,  now  there.  White  horses  there  were,  num 
bers  of  them,  but  it  needed  but  a  glance  to  tell  that  the  "  steed 
of  the  prairies  "  was  not  there. 

We  eyed  each  other  with  looks  of  disappointment.  Even  my 
companions  felt  that ;  but  a  far  more  bitter  feeling  was  growing 
upon  me  as  I  gazed  upon  the  leaderless  troop.  Could  I  have 
captured  and  carried  back  the  whole  drove,  the  present  would 
not  have  purchased  one  smile  from  Isolina.  The  steed  was  not 
among  them  ! 

He  might  still  be  in  the  neighborhood  ;  or  had  he  forsaken  the 
manada  altogether,  and  gone  far  away  over  the  wide  prairie  in 
search  of  new  conquests  ?  The  vaquero  believed  he  was  not  far 
off.  I  had  faith  in  this  man's  opinion,  who,  having  passed  his 
life  in  the  observation  of  wild  and  half-wild  horses,  had  a  perfect 
knowledge  of  their  habits.  There  was  hope  then.  Tlie  steed 
might  be  near  ;  perhaps  lying  down  in  the  shade  of  the  thicket  ; 
perhaps  with  a  portion  of  the  manada  or  some  favorite  in  ona 
of  the  adjacent  glades.  If  so,  our  guide  assured  us  we  should 


100  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

soon  have  him  in  view.    He  would  soon  bring  the  steed  upon  the 
ground. 

How  ?  Simply  by  starting  the  mares,  whose  neigh  of  alarm 
would  be  heard  from  afar. 

The  plan  seemed  feasible  enough  ;  but  it  was  advisable  that 
we  should  surround  the  manada  before  attempting  to  disturb 
them,  else  they  might  gallop  off  in  the  opposite  direction  before 
any  of  us  could  get  near.  Without  delay,  we  proceeded  to  effect 
the  "  surround." 

The  chapparal  aided  us  by  concealing  our  movements  ;  and  in 
half  an  hour  we  had  deployed  around  the  prairie. 

The  drove  still  browsed  and  played.  They  had  no  suspicion 
that  a  cordon  of  hunters  was  being  formed  around  them,  else 
they  would  have  long  since  galloped  away.  Of  all  wild  crea 
tures,  the  shiest  is  the  wild  horse  ;  the  deer,  the  antelope,  and 
buffalo  are  far  less  fearful  of  the  approach  of  man.  The  mustang 
seems  to  understand  the  doom  that  awaits  him  in  captivity.  One 
could  almost  fancy  that  the  runaways  from  the  settlements — 
occasionally  seen  amongst  them — had  poured  into  their  ears  the 
tale  of  their  hardship  and  long  endurance. 

I  had  myself  ridden  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  prairie,  in  order 
tu  be  certain  when  the  circle  was  complete.  I  was  now  alone, 
baring  dropped  my  companions  at  intervals  along  the  margin  of 
the  timber.  I  had  brought  with  me  the  bugle,  with  a  note  or 
two  of  which  I  intended  to  give  the  alarm  to  the  mares.  I  had 
placed  myself  in  a  clump  of  mezquite  trees,  and  was  about  rais 
ing  the  horn  to  my  lips,  when  a  shrill  scream  from  behind  caused 
me  to  bring  down  the  instrument,  aud  turn  suddenly  in  my  seat. 
Far  a  moment,  I  was  in  doubt  as  to  what  could  have  produced 
such  a  singular  utterance,  when  a  second  time  it  fell  on  rny 
err,  and  I  then  recognised  it.  It  was  the  neigh  of  the  prairie 
stallion  ! 

Near  me  was  a  break  in  the  thicket,  a  sort  of  avenue  leading 
ont  into  another  prairie.  In  this  I  could  hear  the  hoof-stroke 


THE   MAN  ADA.  101 

of  a  horse  going  at  a  gallop.  As  fast  as  the  underwood  would 
allow,  I  pressed  forward  and  came  out  upon  the  edge  of  the  open 
ground  ;  but  the  sun,  low  down,  flashed  in  my  eyes,  and  I  could 
see  no  object  distinctly.  The  tread  of  the  hoofs  and  the  shrill 
neighing  still  rang  in  my  ears.  Presently,  the  dazzling  light  no 
longer  quite  blinded  me  ;  I  shaded  my  eyes  with  my  hand,  and 
could  perceive  the  form  of  a  noble  steed  stretching  in  full  gallop 
down  the  avenue,  and  coming  in  the  direction  of  the  manacta. 
Half-a-dozen  springs  brought  him  opposite  ;  the  beam  was  no 
longer  in  ray  eyes  ;  and  as  he  galloped  past,  I  saw  before 
me  the  "  white  steed  of  the  prairies."  There  was  no  mistaking 
the  marks  of  that  'splendid  creature  :  there  was  the  snow-white 
body,  the  ears  of  jetty  blackness,  the  blue  muzzle,  the  red,  pro 
jecting  nostril,  the  broad  oval  quarters,  the  rounded  and  sym 
metric  limbs — all  the  points  of  an  incomparable  steed  ! 

Like  an  arrow,  he  shot  past.  He  did  not  arrest  his  pace  for  an 
instant,  but  galloped  on  in  a  direct  line  for  the  drove. 

The  mares  had  answered  his  first  signal  with  a  responsive 
neigh;  and  tossing  up  their  heads  the  whole  manada  was  instantly 
in  motion.  In  a  few  seconds  they  stood  at  rest  again,  formed  in 
line — as  exact  as  could  have  been  done  by  a  troop  of  cavalry — 
and  fronting  their  leader  as  he  galloped  up.  Indeed,  standing 
as  they  were,  with  their  heads  high  in  air,  it  was  easy  to  fancy 
them  mounted  men  in  the  array  of  battle  ;  and  often  have  the 
wild  horses  been  mistaken  for  such  by  the  prairie  traveller  I 

Concealment  or  stratagem  could  no  longer  avail  ;  the  chase 
was  fairly  up.  Speed  and  the  lazo  must  now  decide  the  result ; 
and  with  this  conviction,  I  gave  Moro  the  spur,  and  bounded  into 
the  open  plain.  The  neighing  of  the  steed  had  signaled  my  com 
panions,  who  shot  almost  simultaneously  out  of  the  timber,  and 
spurred  towards  the  drove,  yelling  as  they  came. 

I  had  no  eyes  for  aught  but  the  white  steed,  and  after  him  I 
directed  myself.  On  nearing  the  line  of  mares,  he  halted  in  his 
wild  gallop,  twice  reared  his  body  upward,  as  if  to  reconnoitre 


t02  THE   WAB-TEAIL. 

the  ground  ;  and  then,  uttering  another  of  his  shrill  screams, 
broke  off  in  a  direct  line  towards  the  edge  of  the  prairie.  A  wide 
avenue  leading  out  in  that  direction  seemed  to  have  guided  his 
instincts.  The  manada  followed,  at  first  galloping  in  line  ;  but 
this  was  soon  broken,  as  the  swifter  individuals  passed  ahead  of 
the  others,  and  the  drove  became  strung  out  upon  the  prairie. 

Through  the  opening  now  swept  the  chase — the  pursuers 
keenly  plying  the  spur,  the  pursued  straining  every  muscle  to 
escape. 


CHAPTER    XYII. 

THE  HUNT   OF  THE  WILD   HORSE. 

MY  gallant  horse  soon  gave  proof  of.  his  superior  qualities. 
One  after  another  of  my  companions  was  passed  ;  and  as  we 
cleared  the  avenue  and  entered  a  second  prairie,  I  found  myself 
mixing  with  the  hindmost  of  the  wild  mares.  Pretty  creatures 
some  of  them  were  ;  and  upon  any  other  occasion,  I  should  have 
been  tempted  to  fling  a  lazo  over  one  of  them,  which  I  might 
easily  have  done.  Then  I  only  thought  of  getting  them  out  of 
the  way,  as  they  were  hindering  my  onward  gallop.  Before  we 
had  quite  crossed  the  second  prairie,  I  had  forged  into  the  front 
rank,  and  the  mares,  seeing  I  had  headed  them,  broke  to  the 
right  and  left,  and  scattered  away.  All  were  now  behind  me,  all 
but  the  white  steed  ;  he  alone  kept  the  course,  at  intervals 
uttering  the  same  shrill  neigh,  as  if  to  tantalize  and  lure  me  on. 
He  was  yet  far  in  advance,  and  apparently  running  at  his  ease ! 

The  horse  I  bestrode  needed  neither  spur  nor  guidance  ;  he 
saw  before  him  the  object  of  the  chase,  and  he  divined  the  will 
of  his  rider.  I  felt  him  rising  under  me  like  a  sea-wave.  Hia 
hoofs  struck  the  turf  without  impinging  upon  it.  At  each 


THE  HUNT  OF  THE  WILD  HORSE.          103 

t'resh  spring,  he  came  up  with  elastic  rebound,  while  his  flanks 
heaved  with  the  conscious  possession  of  power. 

Before  the  second  prairie  was  crossed,  he  had  gained  consider 
ably  upon  the  white  steed  ;  but  to  iny  chagrin,  I  now  saw  the 
latter  dash  right  into  the  thicket. 

I  found  a  path,  and  followed.  My  ear  served  to  guide  me, 
for  the  branches  crackled  as  the  wild  horse  broke  through.  Now 
and  then  I  caught  glimpses  of  his  white  body,  glancing  among 
the  green  leaves. 

Apprehensive  of  losing  him,  I  rode  recklessly  after,  nov* 
breasting  the  thicket,  now  tracing  its  labyrinthine  aisles.  I 
heeded  not  the  thorny  mimosas  ;  my  horse  heeded  them  not  ; 
but  large  trees  of  the  false  acacia  (robinia)  stood  thickly  in  the 
way,  and  their  horizontal  branches  hindered  me.  Often  was  I 
obliged  to  bend  flat  to  the  saddle,  in  order  to  pass  under  them. 
All  this  was  in  favor  of  the  pursued,  and  against  the  pursuer. 

I  longed  for  the  open  prairie,  and  to  my  relief  it  at  length  ap 
peared,  not  yet  quite  treeless,  but  studded  with  timber  "  islands." 
Amid  these  the  white  steed  was  sailing  off ;  but  in  passing 
through  the  thicket,  he  had  gained  ground,  and  was  now  a  long 
way  in  advance  of  me.  He  was  making  for  the  open  plain  tluit 
lay  beyond,  and  this  showed  that  it  was  his  habit  to  trust  to  his 
heels  for  safety.  Perhaps,  with  such  a  pursuer,  he  would  have 
been  safer  to  have  kept  the  chapparal  ;  but  that  remained  to  be 
seen. 

In  ten  minutes'  time,  we  had  passed  through  the  timber 
islands,  and  now  the  prairie — the  grand,  limitless  prairie  — 
stretched  before  us,  far  beyond  the  reach  of  vision. 

On  goes  the  chase  over  its  grassy  level — on  till  the  trees  are 
no  longer  behind  us,  and  the  eye  sees  nought  but  the  green 
savannah,  and  the  blue  canopy  arching  over  it — on,  across  the 
centre  of  that  vast  circle  which  has  for  its  boundary  the  whole 
horizon ! 

The  rangers,  lost  in  the  mazes  of  the  chapparal,  have  long 


104  THE    WAE -TRAIL. 

since  fallen  off;  the  mustangs  have  gone  back  ;  on  all  that  wide 
plain,  but  two  objects  appear — the  snow-white  form  of  the  flying 
steed,  and  the  dark  horseman  that  follows  I 

It  is  a  long  wild  ride,  a  cruel  gallop  for  my  matchless  Moro. 
Ten  miles  of  the  prairie  have  we  passed — more  than  that — and 
as  yet  I  have  neither  used  whip  nor  spur.  The  brave  steed  needs 
no  such  prompting  ;  he,  too,  has  his  interest  in  the  chase — the 
ambition  not  to  be  outrun.  My  motive  is  different :  I  think  only 
of  the  smiles  of  a  woman  ;  but  such  motives  ere  now  has  led  to 
the  loss  of  a  crown  or  the  conquest  of  a  world.  On,  Moro  !  on  I 
you  must  overtake  him  or  die  ! 

There  is  no  longer  an  obstacle.  Ho  cannot  hide  from  us 
here.  The  plain,  with  its  sward  of  short  grass,  is  level  and 
smooth  as  the  sleeping  ocean  ;  not  an  object  intrudes  upon  the 
sight.  He  cannot  conceal  himself  anywhere.  There  is  still  at 
hour  of  sunlight ;  he  cannot  hide  from  us  in  the  darkness  :  ere 
that  comes  down,  he  shall  be  our  captive.  On,  Moro  !  on  ! 

On  we  glide  in  silence.  The  «teed  has  ceased  to  utter  his 
taunting  neigh;  he  has  lost  confidence  in  his  speed  ;  he  now  runs 
in  dread.  Never  before  has  he  been  so  sorely  pressed.  He  runs 
in  silence,  and  so,  too,  his  pursuer.  Not  a  sound  is  heard  but 
the  stroke  of  the  galloping  hoofs — an  impressive  silence,  that 
betokens  the  earnestness  of  the  chase. 

Less  than  two  hundred  yards  separate  us  ;  I  feel  certain  of 
victory.  A  touch  of  the  spur  would  now  bring  Moro  within 
range  ;  it  is  time  to  put  an  end  to  this  desperate  ride.  Now, 
brave  Moro,  another  stretch,  and -you  shall  have  rest  1 

I  look  to  my  lazo  ;  it  hangs  coiled  over  the  horn  of  my  sad 
dle  :  one  end  is  fast  to  a  ring  and  staple  firmly  riveted  in  the 
tree-wood.  Is  the  loop  clear  and  free.  It  is.  The  coil — is  it 
straight  ?  Yes  ;  all  as  it  should  be. 

I  lift  the  coil,  and  rest  it  lightly  over  my  bridle  arm  :  I  sepiv 
rate  the  noose,  and  hold  it  in  my  right  hand.  I  am  ready  —  • 
God  of  Heaven  !  tht  steed  ? 


THE   PHANTOM    HORSE.  105 

It  was  a  wild  exclamation,  but  it  was  drawn  from  me  by  no 
common  cause.  In  arranging  my  lazo,  I  had  taken  my  eyes 
from  the  chase,  only  for  a  moment  :  when  I  looked  out  again, 
the  horse  had  disappeared  ! 

With  a  mechanical  movement  I  drew  bridle,  almost  wrenching 
my  horse  upon  his  haunches  ;  indeed,  the  animal  had  half  halted 
of  his  own  accord,  and  with  a  low  whimper  seemed  to  express 
terror.  What  could  it  mean  ?  Where  was  the  wild  horse  ? 

I  wheeled  round,  and  round  again,  scanning  the  prairie  on 
every  side — though  a  single  glance  might  have  served.  The 
plain,  as  already  described,  was  level  as  a  table  ;  the  horizon 
bounded  the  view  :  there  was  neither  rock  nor  tree,  nor  bush  nor 
weeds,  nor  even  long  grass.  The  sward  was  of  the  kind  known 
upon  the  prairies  as  "  buffalo-grass"  ( Seskria  dactyloides} ,  short 
when  full  grown,  but  then  rising  scarcely  two  inches  above  the 
soil.  A  serpent  could  hardly  have  found  concealment  under  it, 
but  a  horse Merciful  heaven  !  where  was  the  steed  ? 

An  indefinable  feeling  of  awe  crept  over  me  :  I  trembled  ;  I 
felt  my  horse  trembling  between  my  thighs.  He  was  covered 
with  foam  arid  sweat ;  so  was  I — the  effects  of  the  hard  ride  : 
but  the  cold  perspiration  of  terror  was  fast  coming  upon  roe. 
The  mystery  was  heavy  and  appalling  ! 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE     PHANTOM     HORSE. 

I  HAVE  encountered  dangers — not  a  few — but  they  were  the 
ordinary  perils  of  flood  and  field,  and  I  understood  them.  I  have 
had  one  limb  broken,  and  its  fellow  bored  with  an  ounce  of  lead. 
I  have  swain  from  a  sinking  ship,  and  have  fallen  upon  the  bat> 


106  THE    WAE-TBAIL. 

tie-field.  I  have  looked  at  the  mnzzles  of  a  hundred  muskets 
aimed  at  my  person,  at  less  than  thirty  yards'  distance,  and  felt 
the  certainty  of  death  ;  though  the  volley  was  fired,  and  I  still 
live.  Well,  you  will,  no  doubt,  acknowledge  these  to  be  perils. 
Do  not  mistake  me  ;  I  am  not  boasting  of  having  encountered 
them  ;  I  met  them  with  more  or  less  courage — some  of  them 
with  fear  ;  but  if  the  fears  inspired  by  all  were  combined  into 
one  emotion  of  terror,  it  would  not  equal  in  intensity  that  which 
I  experienced  at  the  moment  I  pulled  up  my  horse  upon  the 
prairie. 

I  have  never  been  given  to  superstition  ;  perhaps  my  religion 
is  not  strong  enough  for  that  ;  but  at  that  moment  I  could  not 
help  yielding  to  a  full  belief  in  the  supernatural.  There  was  no 
natural  cause — I  could  think  of  none — that  would  account  for 
the  mysterious  disappearance  of  the  horse,  I  had  often  sneered 
at  the  credulous  sailor  and  his  phantom  ship  :  had  I  lived  to  look 
upon  a  phenomenon  equally  strange,  yet  true — a  phantom 
horse  ? 

The  hunters  and  trappers  had,  indeed,  invested  the  white  steed 
with  this  character  ;  their  stories  recurred  to  my  memory  at  the 
moment.  I  had  used  to  smile  at  the  simple  credulity  of  the  nar 
rators.  I  was  now  prepared  to  believe  them.  They  were  true  I 

Or  was  I  dreaming  ?  Was  it  not  all  a  dream  ?  The  search 
for  the  white  steed — the  surround — the  chase — the  long,  long 
gallop  ?^ 

For  some  moments  I  actually  fancied  that  such  might  be  tho 
case  ;  but  soon  my  consciousness  became  clear  again  ;  I  was  in 
the  saddle,  and  my  panting,  smoking  steed  was  under  me.  That 
was  real  and  positive.  I  remembered  all  the  incidents  of  the 
chase.  They,  too,  were  real,  of  a  certainty  ;  the  white  steed  had 
been  there  :  he  was  gone.  The  trappers  spoke  the  truth.  The 
horse  was  a  phantom  I 

Oppressed  with  this  thought,  which  had  almost  become  a  con 
viction,  I  sat  in  my  saddle,  bent  and  silent,  my  eyes  turned  upon 


THE   PHANTOM    HORSE.  107 

the  earth,  but  their  gaze  fixed  upon  vacuity.     The  lazo  had 
dropped  from  my  fingers,  and  the  bridle  reins  trailed  untouched 

over  the  withers  of  my  horse. 

*  *  ***** 

My  belief  in  the  supernatural  was  of  short  duration  ;  ho* 
long  I  know  not,  for,  during  its  continuance,  1  remained  in  a 
state  of  bewilderment.  My  senses  at  length  returned.  My 
eyes  had  fallen  upon  a  fresh  hoof-print  on  the  turf,  directly  in 
front  of  me.  I  knew  it  was  that  made  by  the  white  steed,  and 
this  awoke  me  to  a  process  of  reasoning.  Had  the  horse  been  a 
phantom,  he  would  not  have  made  a  track  ?  I  had  never  heard 
of  the  track  of  a  ghost  ;  though  a  horse  ghost  might  be  different 
from  the  common  kind  1 

My  reflections  on  this  head  ended  in  the  determination  to  fol 
low  the  trail  as  far  as  it  led  ;  of  course  to  the  point  where  the 
steed  must  have  mounted  into  the  air,  or  evaporated — the  scene 
of  his  apotheosis. 

With  this  resolve,  I  gathered  my  reins,  and  rode  forward  upon 
the  trail,  keeping  my  eyes  fixed  upon  the  hoof-prints.  The  line 
was  direct,  and  I  had  ridden  nearly  two  hundred  yards,  when  my 
horse  came  to  a  sudden  stop.  I  looked  out  forward  to  discover 
the  cause  of  his  halting  ;  with  that  glance,  vanished  my  new-born 
superstitions. 

At  the  distance  of  some  thirty  paces,  a  dark  line  was  seen 
upon  the  prairie,  running  transversely  to  the  course  I  was  fol 
lowing.  It  appeared  to  be  a  narrow  crack  in  the  plain  ;  but  on 
spurring  nearer,  it  proved  to  be  a  fissure  of  considerable  width — 
one  of  those  formations  known  throughout  Spanish  America  ;is 
barrancas.  The  earth  yawned,  as  though  rent  by  an  earthquake  ; 
but  water  had  evidently  something  to  do  with  its  formation.  It 
was  of  nearly  equal  width  at  top  and  bottom,  and  its  bed  wa8 
covered  with  a  debris  of  rocks  rounded  by  attrition.  Its  sides 
were  perfectly  vertical,  and  the  stratification,  even  to  the  surface- 
*nrf,  exactly'  corresponded — thus  rendering  it  invisible  at  the 


108  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

distance  ol  but  a  few  paces  from  its  brink.  It  appeared  to  shal 
low  to  the  right,  and  no  doubt  ended  not  fai  off  in  that  direction. 
Towards  the  left,  on  the  contrary,  I  ccald  see  that  it  became 
deeper  and  wider.  At  the  point  where  I  had  reached  it,  it? 
bottom  was  nearly  twenty  feet  from  the  surface  of  the  prairie. 

Of  course,  the  disappearance  of  the  white  steed  was  no  longei 
a  mystery.  He  had  made  a  fearful  leap — nearly  twenty  feet 
sheer  !  There  was  the  torn  turf  on  the  brink  of  the  chasm,  and 
the  displacement  of  the  loose  stones,  where  he  had  bounded  into 
its  bed.  He  had  gone  to  the  left — down  the  barranca.  The 
abrasion  of  his  hoofs  was  visible  upon  the  rocks. 

I  looked  down  the  defile  :  he  was  not  to  be  seen.  The  bar 
ranca  turned  off  at  an  angle  at  no  great  distance.  He  had 
already  passed  round  the  angle,  and  was  out  of  sight.  It  was 
clear  that  he  had  escaped  ;  that  to  follow  would  be  of  no  use  ; 
and  with  this  reflection  I  abandoned  all  thoughts  of  carrying  the 
chase  further. 

After  giving  way  to  a  pang  or  two  of  disappointment,  I 
began  to  think  of  the  position  in  which  I  had  placed  myself.  It 
is  true  I  was  now  relieved  from  the  feeling  of  awe  that,  but  a 
moment  before,  had  oppressed  me  ;  but  my  situation  was  far 
from  being  a  pleasant  one.  I  was  at  least  thirty  miles  from  the 
rancheria,  and  I  could  not  tell  in  what  direction  it  lay.  The  sun 
was  setting,  and  therefore  I  had  the  points  of  the  compass  ;  but 
I  had  not  the  slightest  idea  whether  we  had  ridden  eastward  or 
westward,  after  leaving  the  settlements.  I  might  ride  back  on 
my  own  trail  ;  perhaps  I  might :  it  was  a  doubtful  point. 
Neither  through  the  timber,  nor  on  the  open  prairie,  had  the 
chase  gone  in  a  direct  line.  Moreover,  I  noticed  in  many  places, 
as  we  glided  swiftly  along,  that  the  turf  was  cut  up  by  numerous 
hoof-tracks  :  droves  of  mustangs  had  passed  over  the  ground. 
It  would  be  no  easy  matter  for  me  to  retrace  the  windings  of 
that  long  gallop. 

One  thing  was  evident ;  it  would  be  useless  for  me  to  make 


THE    PHANTOM    HOESE.  109 

the  attempt  before  morning.  There  was  not  half  an  hour  of  sun 
left,  and  at  night  the  trail  could  not  be  followed.  I  had  no 
alternative  but  to  remain  where  I  was  until  another  day  broke. 

But  how  remain  ?  I  was  hungry  ;  still  worse,  I  was  choking 
with  thirst.  Not  a  drop  of  water  was  near  ;  I  had  seen  none 
for  twenty  miles.  The  long  hot  ride  had  made  me  thirst  to  au 
unusual  degree,  and  my  poor  horse  was  in  a  similar  condition. 
The  knowledge  that  no  water  was  near,  added,  as  it  always 
does,  to  the  agony,  and  rendered  the  physical  want  more  difficult 
to  be  endured. 

I  scanned  the  bottom  of  the  barranca,  and  tracked  it  with  my 
eye  as  far  as  I  could  see  :  it  was  waterless  as  the  plain  itself. 
The  rocks  rested  upon  dry  sand  and  gravel  ;  not  a  drop  of  the 
wished-for  element  appeared  within  its  bed,  although  it  was  evi 
dent  that  at  some  time  a  torrent  must  have  swept  along  its 
channel. 

After  some  reflection,  it  occurred  to  me  that  by  following  the 
barranca  downward,  I  might  find  water  ;  at  least,  this  was  the 
most  likely  direction  in  which  to  search  for  it.  I  rode  forward, 
therefore,  directing  my  horse  along  the  edge  of  the  chasm.  The 
fissure  deepened  as  I  advanced,  until,  at  the  distance  of  a  mile 
from  where  I  first  struck  it,  the  gulf  yawned  full  fifty  feet  into 
the  plain,  the  sides  still  preserving  their  vertical  steepness  ! 

The  sun  had  now  gone  down  ;  the  twilight  promised  to  be  a 
short  one.  I  dared  not  traverse  that  plain  in  the  darkness  ;  I 
might  ride  over  the  precipitous  edge  of  the  barranca.  Besides, 
it  was  not  the  only  one  :  I  saw  there  were  others — smaller  ones 
— the  beds  of  tributary  streams  in  times  of  rain.  These  branched 
off  diagonally  or  at  right  angles,  and  were  more  or  less  deep  and 
steep. 

Night  was  fast  closing  over  the  prairie  ;  I  dared  not  ride  fur 
ther  amid  these  perilous  abysms.  I  must  soon  come  to  a  halt, 
without  finding  water.  I  should  have  to  spend  the  long  houra 
without  relief.  The  thought  of  such  a  night  was  fearful. 


110  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

I  was  still  riding  slowly  onward,  mechanically  conducting  my 
horse,  when  a  bright  object  fell  under  my  eyes,  causing  me  to 
start  in  my  saddle  with  an  exclamation  of  joy.  It  was  the  gleam 
of  water.  I  saw  it  in  a  westerly  direction,  the  direction  in  which 
I  was  goins:.  It  was  a  small  lake,  or — in  the  phraseology  of 
the  country — a  pond.  It  was  not  in  the  bottom  of  the  ravine, 
where  I  had  hitherto  been  looking  for  water,  but  up  on  the  high 
prairie.  There  was  no  timber  around  it,  no  sedge  ;  its  shores 
were  without  vegetation  of  any  kind,  and  its  surface  appeared  to 
correspond  with  the  level  of  the  plain  itself. 

I  rode  forward  with  joyful  anticipations,  yet  not  without  some 
anxiety.  Was  it  a  mirage  ?  It  might  be — often  had  I  been 
deceived  by  such  appearances.  But  no  :  it  had  not  the  filmy, 
gauze-like  halo  that  hangs  over  the  mirage.  Its  outlines  were 
sharply  defined  by  the  prairie  turf,  and  the  last  lingering  rays  of 
the  sun  glistened  upon  its  surface.  It  was  water  ! 

Fully  assured  of  this,  I  rode  forward  at  a  more  rapid  rate. 

I  had  got  within  two  hundred  paces  of  the  spot,  keeping  my 
eyes  fixed  upon  the  glistening  water,  when  all  at  once  my  horse 
started,  and  drew  back  !  I  looked  ahead  to  discover  the  cause. 
The  twilight  had  nearly  passed,  but  in  the  obscurity  I  could  still 
distinguish  the  surface  of  the  prairie.  The  barranca  again 
frowned  before  me,  running  transversely  across  my  path.  To  my 
chagrin,  I  perceived  that  the  chasm  had  made  a  sudden  turn, 
and  that  the  pond  was  on  its  opposite  side  ! 


A  PRAIRIE   DREAM.  Ill 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

A   PRAIRIE    DREAM. 

THERE  was  no  hope  of  crossing  in  the  darkness.  The  barranca 
was  here  deeper  than  at  any  point  above  ;  so  deep  that  I  could 
bnt  indistinctly  see  the  rocky  boulders  at  its  bottom.  Perhaps 
with  the  daylight  I  might  be  able  to  find  a  crossing-place  ;  but 
from  that  doubtful  hypothesis  I  derived  little  consolation. 

It  had  now  grown  quite  dark,  and  I  had  no  choice  but  to 
pass  the  night  where  I  was,  though  I  anticipated  a  night  of 
torture. 

I  dropped  to  the  ground,  and  having  led  my  horse  a  few  rods 
into  the  prairie,  so  as  to  keep  him  clear  of  the  precipice,  I 
relieved  him  of  his  saddle  and  bridle,  and  left  him  to  browse  to 
the  full  length  of  the  lazo.  For  myself,  I  had  but  few  prepara 
tions  to  make  :  there  was  no  supper  to  be  cooked,  but  eating  was 
a  matter  of  secondary  importance  on  that  occasion.  I  should 
have  preferred  a  cup  of  water  to  a  roast  turkey. 

I  had  but  few  implements  to  dispose  of  in  my  temporary 
camp.  My  rifle  and  hunting-knife,  with  horn  and  pouch,  and 
the  double-headed  gourd,  which  served  as  water-canteen,  and 
which,  alas  1  had  been  emptied  at  an  early  hour  of  the  day. 
Fortunately,  my  Mexican  blanket  was  buckled  on  the  croupe. 
This  I  unstrapped,  and  having  enveloped  myself  in  its  ample 
folds,  and  placed  my  head  in  the  hollow  of  my  saddle,  I  com 
posed  myself  as  well  as  I  could,  in  the  hope  of  falling  asleep. 

For  a  long  time  this  luxury  was  denied  me.  The  torture  of- 
thirst  will  rob  one  of  sleep  as  effectually  as  the  stinging  pain  of 
toothache.  I  turned,  and  turned  again,  glaring  at  the  moon  j 


112  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

she  was  visible  only  at  intervals,  as  black  clouds  were  coursing 
across  the  canopy  ;  but  when  she  shone  out,  her  light  caused 
the  little  lake  to  glisten  like  a  sheet  of  silver.  Oh  !  how  that 
bright  water  mocked  me  with  its  wavy  ripple  !  I  could  compre 
hend  the  sufferings  of  Tantalus.  I  thought  at  the  time  that  the 
gods  could  not  have  devised  a  more  exquisite  torture  for  the 
royal  Lydian. 

After  some  time,  the  pain  of  thirst  was  less  intensely  felt. 
Perhaps  the  cold  damp  air  of  night  had  the  effect  of  relieving  it ; 
but  it  is  more  likely  that  fatigue  and  long  endurance  had  ren 
dered  the  sense  less  acute.  Whatever  may  have  been  the  cause, 
I  suffered  less,  and  felt  myself  yielding  to  sleep.  There  was  no 
sound  to  keep  me  awake  :  perfect  stillness  reigned  around  ;  even 
the  usual  howling  bark  of  the  prairie  wolf  did  not  reach  my  ear 
The  place  seemed  too  lonely  for  this  almost  ubiquitous  night- 
prowler.  The  only  sign  of  life  that  told  me  I  was  not  alone  was 
the  occasional  stroke  of  my  steed's  hoof  upon  the  hard  turf,  and 
the  "  crop-crop "  that  told  me  he  was  busy  with  the  short 
buffalo-grass.  But  these  were  soothing  sounds,  as  they  admon 
ished  me  that  my  faithful  companion  was  enjoying  himself  after 
his  hard  gallop,  and  strengthened  my  desire  for  repose. 

I  slept,  but  not  lightly.  No  ;  my  sleep  \tas  heavy,  and  full 
of  troubled  dreams.  I  have  a  sort  of  half  belief  that  the  role 
we  play  in  these  dream-scenes  wear  the  body  as  much  as  if  wo 
enacted  it  in  reality.  I  have  often  awaked  from  such  visions 
feeble  from  fatigue.  If  such  be  the  fact,  during  that  night  upon 
the  prairie  I  went  through  the  toils  of  the  preceding  day  with 
considerable  additions.  First  of  all,  I  was  in  the  presence  of  a 
lovely  woman  :  she  was  dark-eyed,  dark-haired — a  brunette— u 
beauty.  I  traced  the  features  of  Isolina.  I  gazed  in  her  eyes  ; 
[  was  happy  in  her  smiles  ;  I  fancied  I  was  beloved.  Bright 
objects  were  around  me.  The  whole  scene  was  rose-color. 

This  was  a  short  episode  :  it  was  interrupted.  I  heard  shouta 
and  savage  yells.  I  looked  out :  the  house  was  surrounded  bv 


A   PKAIRIE   DKEAM.  113 

Indians  !  They  were  already  within  the  enclosure  ;  and  the 
moment  after,  crowds  of  them  entered  the  house.  There  was 
much  struggling  and  confusion,  I  battled  with  such  arms  as  1 
could  lay  hold  of ;  several  fell  before  me  ;  but  one — a  tall 
savage,  the  chief,  as  I  thought — threw  his  arms  around  my  mis 
tress,  and  carried  her  away  out  of  my  sight. 

I  remember  not  how  I  got  mounted  ;  but  I  was  upon  horse 
back,  and  galloping  over  the  wide  prairie  in  pursuit  of  the 
ravisher.  I  could  see  the  savage  ahead  upon  a  snow-white  steed, 
with  Isolina  in  his  arms.  I  urged  my  horse  with  voice  and  spur, 
but,  as  I  thought,  for  long,  long  hours  in  vain.  The  white  steed 
still  kept  far  in  the  advance  ;  and  I  could  come  no  nearer  him. 
I  thought  the  savage  had  changed  his  form.  He  was  no  longer 
an  Indian  chief,  but  the  fiend  himself  :  I  saw  the  horns  upon  his 
head  ;  his  feet  were  cloven  hoofs  !  I  thought  he  was  luring  me 
to  the  brink  of  some  fell  precipice,  and  I  had  no  longer  the 
power  to  stay  my  horse.  Ha  I  The  demon  and  his  phantom- 
horse  have  gone  over  the  cliff!  They  have  carried  her  along 
with  them  !  I  must  follow — I  cannot  remain  behind.  I  am  on 
the  brink.  My  steed  springs  over  the  chasm.  I  am  falling — 
falling — falling  ! 

I  reach  the  rocks  at  length.  I  am  not  killed  :  how  strange  I 
am  not  crushed  1  But  no  ;  I  still  live.  Yet  I  suffer.  Thirst 
chokes  and  tortures  me  :  my  heart  and  brain  are  aching,  and  my 
tongue  is  on  fire.  The  sound  of  water  is  in  my  ears  :  a  torrent 
rushes  by,  near  me.  If  I  could  only  reach  it,  I  might  drink  and 
live  :  but  I  cannot  move  ;  I  am  chained  to  the  rocks.  I  grasp 
one  after  another,  and  endeavor  to  drag  myself  along  :  I  par 
tially  succeed  ;  but  oh,  what  efforts  I  make.  The  labor  exhausts 
my  strength.  I  renew  my  exertions.  I  am  gaining  ground  : 
rock  after  rock  is  passed.  I  have  neared  the  rushing  water  ;  I 

feel  its  cold  spray  sprinkling  me.     I  am  saved  ! 

******* 

After  such  fashion  ran  mv  dream.     It  was  the  shadow  of  a 


114  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

reality,  somewhat  disorganized  ;  but  the  most  pleasant  reality 
was  that  which  awoke  me.  I  found  myself  in  the  process  of 
being  sprinkled,  not  by  the  spray  of  a  torrent,  but  by  a  plashing 
shower  from  the  clouds  !  Under  other  circumstances,  this  might 
have  been  less  welcome,  but  now  I  hailed  it  with  a  shout  of  joy 
The  thunder  was  rolling  almost  continuously  ;  lightning  blazed 
at  short  intervals  ;  and  I  could  hear  the  roar  of  a  torrent  pass 
ing  down  the  barranca. 

To  assuage  thirst  was  my  first  thought  ;  and  for  this  purpose, 
I  stretched  out  my  concave  palms,  and  held  my  mouth  wide 
open,  thus  drinking  from  the  very  fountains  of  the  sky.  Though 
the  drops  fell  thick  and  heavy,  the  process  was  too  slow,  and  a 
better  plan  suggested  itself.  I  knew  that  my  serape  was  water 
proof  :  it  was  one  of  the  best  of  Parras  fabric,  and  had  cost  me 
an  hundred  silver  dollars.  This  I  spread  to  its  full  extent,  press 
ing  the  central  parts  into  a  hollow  of  the  prairie.  In  five  min 
utes'  time,  I  had  forgotten  what  thirst  was,  and  wondered  how 
such  a  thing  should  have  caused  me  so  much  torture  ! 

Moro  drank  from  the  same  "  trough,"  and  betook  himself  to 
the  grass  again.  The  under  side  of  the  blanket  was  still  dry, 
and  the  patch  of  ground  which  it  had  sheltered.  Along  this  I 
stretched  myself,  drew  the  serape  over  me  ;  and  after  listening  a 
while  to  the  loud  lullaby  of  the  thunder,  fell  fast  asleep. 


LOST   UPON   THE   PRAIRIE.  Ii5 


CHAPTER    XX. 

LOST     UPON     THE     PRAIRIE. 

I  SLEPT  sweetly  and  soundly.  I  had  no  dreams,  or  only  such 
as  were  light,  and  forgotten  with  the  return  of  consciousness. 

It  was  late  when  I  awoke.  A  bright  sun  was  mounting  into 
the  blue  and  cloudless  sky.  This  orb  was  already  many  degrees 
above  the  horizon. 

Hunger  was  the  father  of  my  first  thought.  I  had  eaten 
nothing  since  an  early  hour  of  the  preceding  day,  and  then  only 
the  light  desayuna  of  sweet-cake  and  chocolate.  To  one  not 
accustomed  to  long  fasting,  a  single  day  without  food  will  give 
some  idea  of  the  pain  of  hunger ;  that  pain  will  increase  upon  a 
second  day,  and  by  the  third  will  have  reached  its  maximum. 
"Upon  the  fourth  and  fifth,  the  body  grows  weaker,  and  the  brain 
becomes  deranged  ;  the  nerve,  however,  is  less  acute,  and  though 
the  suffering  is  still  intense,  hunger  is  never  harder  to  endure 
than  upon  the  second  or  third  days.  Of  course,  these  remarks 
apply  only  to  those  not  habituated  to  long  fasts.  I  have  known 
men  who  could  endure  hunger  for  six  days,  and  feel  less  pain 
than  others  under  a  fast  of  twenty-four  hours.  Indians  or 
prairie-hunters  were  those  men,  and  fortunately  for  them  that 
they  are  endowed  with  such  powers  of  endurance,  often  driven 
as  they  are  into  circumstances  of  the  most  dire  necessity.  Truly, 
"  God  tempers  the  wind  to  the  shorn  lamb  !" 

As  I  have  said,  my  first  thought  was  of  something  to  eat.  I 
rose  to  my  feet,  and  with  my  eye  swept  the  prairie  in  every  direc 
tion  :  no  object,  living  or  dead,  greeted  my  sight  ;  beast  or  bird 
there  was  none  ;  my  horse  alone  met  my  glance,  quietly  brows- 


116  THE    WAR-TEAIL. 

ing  on  his  trail-rope.  I  could  not  help  envying  him,  as  I  scanned 
his  well-filled  sides.  I  thought  of  the  bounty  of  the  Creator  in 
thus  providing  for  his  less  intelligent  creatures — giving  them  the 
power  to  live  where  man  would  starve.  "Who  does  riot  in  this 
recognize  the  hand  of  a  Providence  ? 

I  walked  forward  to  the  edge  of  the  barranca,  and  looked 
over.  It  was  a  grim  abyss,  over  a  hundred  feet  in  depth,  and 
about  the  same  in  width.  Its  sides  were  less  precipitous  at  this 
point.  The  escarpment  rocks  had  fallen  in,  and  formed  a  sort 
of  shelving  bank,  by  which  a  man  on  foot  might  have  descended 
into  its  bed,  and  climbed  out  on  the  opposite  side  ;  but  it  was 
not  passable  for  a  horse.  Its  cliffs  were  furrowed  arid  uneven  ; 
rocks  jutted  out  and  hung  over  ;  and  in  the  seams  grew  cactus 
plants,  bramble,  and  small  trees  of  dwarf  cedar  (Juniperus  pro*- 
trata.) 

I  looked  into  its  channel.  I  had  heard  the  torrent  rolling 
down  in  the  night.  I  saw  traces  of  the  water  among  the  rocks. 
A  large  body  must  have  passed,  and  yet  not  a  cupful  could  now 
have  been  lifted  from  its  bed  !  What  remained  was  fast  filtering 
into  the  sand,  or  rising  back  to  the  heavens  upon  the  heated 
atmosphere. 

I  had  brought  with  me  my  rifle,  in  hopes  of  espying  some  liv 
ing  creature  ;  but,  after  walking  for  a  considerable  distance  along 
the  edge,  I  abandoned  the  search.  No  trace  of  bird  or  quadru 
ped  could  be  found,  and  I  turned  and  went  back  to  the  place 
where  1  had  slept. 

To  draw  the  picket-pin  of  my  horse  and  saddle  him,  was  the 
work  of  a  few  minutes  ;  this  done,  I  began  to  bethink  me  of 
where  I  was  going.  Back  to  the  rancheria,  of  course  !  That 
was  the  natural  reply  to  such  a  question  ;  but  there  was  another 
far  less  easily  answered  :  How  was  I  to  find  the  way  ?  My  de 
sign  of  the  previous  night — to  follow  back  my  own  trail — was 
no  longer  practicable.  The  rain  had  effaced  the  tracks !  I  remem 
bered  that  I  had  passed  over  w'de  stretches  of  light  dusty  soil, 


LOST   UPON    THE   PRAIRIE.  117 

where  the  hoof  scarcely  impressed  itself.  I  remembered  that  the 
rain  had  been  of  that  character  known  as  "  planet  showers,"  with 
large  heavy  drops,  that,  in  such  places,  must  have  blotted  out 
every  trace  of  the  trail.  To  follow  the  "back-track"  was  no 
longer  possible.  I  had  not  before  thought  of  this  difficulty  ;  and 
now,  that  it  presented  itself  to  my  mind,  it  was  accompanied  by 
a  new  feeling  of  dread.  I  felt  that  /  was  lost ! 

As  you  sit  in  your  easy-chair,  you  may  fancy  that  this  is  a 
mere  bagatelle — a  little  bewilderment  that  one  may  easily  escape 
from  who  has  a  good  horse  between  his  thighs.  It  is  only  to 
strike  boldly  out  and  by  riding  on  in  a  straight  line,  you  must  in 
time  arrive  somewhere.  No  doubt,  that  is  your  idea  ;  but  permit 
me  to  inform  you  that  this  depends  very  much  upon  circum 
stances.  It  would  indeed  be  trusting  to  blind  chance.  You 
might  arrive  "  somewhere,"  and  that  somewhere  might  be  the 
very  point  from  which  you  had  started  !  Do  you  fancy  you 
can  ride  ten  miles  in  a  direct  line  over  a  prairie,  without  a  single 
object  to  guide  you  ?  Be  undeceived,  then  ;  you  cannot!  Tho 
best  mounted  men  have  perished  under  such  circumstances.  It 
may  take  days  to  escape  out  of  a  fifty-mile  prairie,  and  days 
bring  death.  Hunger  and  thirst  soon  gain  strength  and  agony — 
the  sooner  that  you  know  you  have  not  the  wherewith  to  satisfy 
the  one,  nor  quench  the  other.  Besides,  there  is  in  your  very 
loneliness  a  feeling  of  bewilderment,  painful  to  an  extreme 
degree,  and  from  which  only  the  oldest  prairie-men  are  free. 
Your  senses  lose  half  their  power,  energy  is  diminished,  and 
your  resolves  become  weak  and  vacillating.  You  feel  doubtful 
at  each  step  as  to  whether  you  be  following  the  right  path,  and 
are  ready  at  every  moment  to  turn  into  another.  Believe  me, 
it  is  a  fearful  thing  to  be  alone  and  lost  upon  the  prairies  ! 

I  felt  this  keenly  enough.  I  had  been  on  the  great  plains 
before,  but  it  was  the  first  time  I  had  the  misfortune  to  wander 
astray  on  them,  and  I  was  the  more  terrified  that  I  had  already 
hungered  to  no  common  degree.  There  was  something  singular 


118  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

too,  in  the  circumstances  that  had  brought  rne  into  my  present 
situation.  The  disappearance  of  the  white  steed,  although 
accounted  ibr  by  perfectly  natural  causes,  had  left  upon  my 
mind  a  strange  impression.  That  he  should  have  lured  me 
so  far,  and  then  eluded  me  in  such  a  way  1  I  could  not  help 
fancying  design  in  it ;  and  fancying  so,  I  could  attribute  such 
design  only  to  a  higher  intelligence — in  fact,  to  some  superna 
tural  cause  1  I  was  again  on  the  edge  of  superstition.  My 
mind  began  to  give  way  and  yield  itself  to  hideous  fancies. 

I  struggled  against  such  thoughts,  and  succeeded  in  rousing 
myself  to  reflect  upon  some  active  measures  for  my  safety.  I 
saw  that  it  was  of  no  use  to  remain  where  I  was.  I  knew  that 
I  could  make  a  straight  path  for  a  couple  of  hours  at  least — the 
sun  was  in  the  sky,  and  that  would  guide  me — until  near  the 
meridian  hours.  Then  I  should  have  to  halt,  and  wait  a  while  ; 
for  in  that  southern  latitude,  and  just  at  that  time  of  the  year, 
the  sun  at  noon  is  so  near  the  zenith  that  a  practised  astronomer 
could  not  tell  north  from  south.  I  reflected  that  before  noon  I 
might  reach  the  timber,  though  that  would  not  insure  my  safety. 
Even  the  naked  plain  is  not  more  bewildering  than  the  openings 
of  the  mezquite  groves  and-the  chaparral  that  border  it.  Among 
these  you  may  travel  for  days  without  getting  twenty  miles 
from  your  starting-point,  and  they  are  often  as  destitute  of 
the  means  of  life  as  the  desert  itself ! 

Such  were  my  reflections  as  I  had  saddled  and  bridled  my 
horse,  and  stood  scanning  the  plain  in  order  to  make  up  UIT 
mind  as  to  the  direction  I  should  take. 


A.   PRAIRIE   EEPAST.  119 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

A    PRAIRIE    REPAST. 

&> 

IN  gazing  out,  my  eye  was  attracted  by  some  objects.  They 
were  animals,  but  of  what  species  I  could  not  tell.  There  are 
times  upon  the  prairies  when  form  and  size  present  the  most  illu 
sory  aspects;  a  wolf  seems  as  large  as  a  horse;  and  a  raven, 
sitting  upon  a  swell  of  the  plain,  has  been  mistaken  for  a  buffalo. 
A  peculiar  state  of  the  atmosphere  is  the  magnifying  cause,  and 
it  is  only  the  experienced  eye  of  the  trapper  that  can  reduce  the 
magnified  proportions  and  distorted  form  to  their  proper  size 
and  shape.. 

The  objects  I  had  noticed  were  full  three  miles  off ;  they  were 
in  the  direction  of  the  lake,  and  of  course  on  the  other  side  of 
the  barranca.  There  were  several  forms — five  I  counted — mov 
ing  phantom-like  against  the  rim  of  the  horizon.  Something 
drew  my  attention  from  them  for  a  short  while — a  period  of  per 
haps  three  or  four  minutes'  duration.  When  I  looked  out  again, 
they  were  no  longer  to  be  seen  ;  but  by  the  edge  of  the  pond, 
at  less  than  five  hundred  yards'  distance,  five  beautiful  creatures 
were  standing,  which  I  knew  to  be  antelopes.  They  were  so 
close  to  the  pond,  that  their  graceful  forms  were  shadowed 
in  the  water,  and  their  erect  attitudes  told  that  they  had  just 
halted  after  a  run.  Their  number  corresponded  with  the  objects 
I  had  seen  but  the  moment  before  far  out  upon  the  prairie. 
I  was  convinced  they  were  the  same.  The  distance  was  nothing: 
these  creatures  travel  with  the  speed  of  a  swallow. 

The  sight  of  the  prong-horns  stimulated  my  hunger.  My  first 
thought  was  how  to  get  near  them.  Curiosity  had  brought 


120  THE    WAK-TKAIL. 

them  to  the  pond  ;  they  had  espied  my  horse  and  myself  afar 
off,  and  had  galloped  up  to  reconnoitre  us.  But  they  still 
appeared  shy  and  timid,  and  were  evidently  not  inclined  to 
approach  nearer. 

The  barranca  lay  betweem  them  and  me,  but  I  saw  that  if  I 
could  entice  them  to  its  brink,  they  would  be  within  range  if  my 
rifle. 

Once  more  staking  down  my  horse,  I  tried  every  plan  I  could 
think  of.  I  laid  myself  along  the  grass  upon  my  back,  and 
kicked  my  heels  in  the  air,  but  to  no  purpose  :  the  game  would 
not  move  from  the  water's  edge. 

Remembering  that  my  serape  was  of  very  brillant  colors,  I 
bethought  me  of  another  plan  which,  when  adroitly  practised, 
rarely  fails  of  success.  Taking  the  blanket,  I  lashed  one  edge  to 
the  ramrod  of  my  rifle,  having  first  passed  the  iatter  through  the 
upper  swivel  of  the  piece.  With  the  thumb  of  my  left  hand  I 
was  thus  enabled  to  hold  the  rammer  steady  and  transverse 
to  the  barrel.  I  now  dropped  upon  my  knees,  holding  the  guu 
shoulder-high,  and  the  gay-colored  serape  spread  out  almost  to 
its  full  extent,  hung  to  the  ground,  and  formed  a  complete  cover 
for  my  person.  Before  making  these  arrangements,  I  had  crept 
to  the  very  edge  of  the  barranca,  in  order  to  be  as  near  as  pos 
sible  should  the  antelopes  approach  upon  the  opposite  side.  Of 
course  every  manoeuvre  was  executed  with  all  the  silence  and 
caution  I  could  observe.  I  was  in  no  reckless  humor  to  frighten 
oif  the  game.  Hunger  was  my  monitor.  I  knew  that  not  my 
-breakfast  alone,  but  my  life,  might  be  depending  on  the  successful 
issue  of  the  experiment. 

It  was  not  long  before  I  had  the  gratification  of  perceiving 
that  my  decoy  was  likely  to  prove  attractive.  The  prong- 
horned  antelope,  like  most  animals  of  its  kind,  has  one  strongly 
developed  propensity — that  of  curiosity.  Although  to  a  known 
enemy  it  is  the  most  timid  of  creatures,  yet  in  the  presence  of 
an  object  that  is  new  to  it,  it  appears  to  throw  aside  its  timidity. 


A    PRAIRIE   REPAST.  121 

or  rather  its  curiosity  overcomes  its  sense  of  fear  ;  and,  impelled 
by  the  former,  it  will  approach  very  near  to  any  strange  form,  and 
regard  it  with  an  air  of  bewilderment.  The  prairie-wolf — a 
creature  that  surpasses  even  the  fox  in  cunning — well  knows 
this  weakness  of  the  antelope,  and  often  takes  advantage  of  it. 
The  wolf  is  less  fleet  than  the  antelope,  and  his  pursuit  of  it  in 
a  direct  manner  would  be  vain  ;  but  with  the  astute  crea 
ture,  stratagem  makes  up  for  the  absence  of  speed.  Should 
a  "  band"  of  antelopes  chance  to  be  passing,  the  prairie-wolf  lays 
himself  flat  upon  the  grass,  clews  his  body  into  a  round  ball,  and 
thus  rolls  himself  over  the  ground,  or  goes  through  a  series  of 
contortions,  all  the  while  approaching  nearer  to  his  victims,  until 
he  has  them  within  springing  distance  !  Usually  he  *is  assisted 
in  these  manoeuvres  by  several  companions,  for  the  prairie-wolf 
is  social,  and  hunts  in  packs. 

The  square  of  bright  colors  soon  produced  its  effect.  The 
five  prong-horns  came  trotting  around  the  edge  of  the  lake, 
halted,  gazed  upon  it  a  moment,  and  then  dashed  off  again  to  a 
greater  distance.  Soon,  however,  they  turned  and  came  running 
back,  this  time  apparently  with  greater  confidence,  and  a  stronger 
feeling  of  curiosity.  I  could  hear  them  uttering  their  quick 
"  snorts >;  as  they  tossed  up  their  tiny  heads  and  snuffed  the  air. 
Fortunately,  the  wind  was  in  my  favor,  blowing  directly  from  the 
game,  a,od  towards  me  ;  otherwise,  they  would  have  "winded" 
me,  and  discovered  the  cheat,  for  they  both  know  and  fear  the 
scent  of  the  human  hunter. 

The  band  consisted  of  a  young  buck  and  four  females— 
his  wives  ;  the  nucleus,  no  doubt,  of  a  much  larger  establish 
ment  in  prospect — for  the  antelope  is  polygamous,  and  some  of 
the  older  males  have  an  extensive  following.  I  knew  the  buck 
by  his  greater  size  and  forking  horns,  which  the  does  want.  He 
appeared  to  direct  the  actions  of  the  others,  as  they  all  stood 
in  a  line  behind  him,  following  and  imitating  his  motions. 

At  the  second  approach,  they  came  within  a  hundred  yards 

6 


122  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

of  me.  My  rifle  was  equal  to  this  range,  and  I  prepared  to  fire. 
The  leader  was  nearest  me,  and  him  I  selected  as  the  victim. 
Taking  sight,  I  pulled  trigger.  As  soon  as  the  smoke  cleared 
off,  I  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  buck  down  upon  the 
prairie,  in  the  act  of  giving  his  last  kick.  To  my  surprise  none 
of  the  others  bad  been  frightened  off  by  the  report,  but  stood 
gazing  at  their  fallen  leader,  apparently  bewildered. 

I  bethought  me  of  reloading  ;  but  I  had  incautiously  risen  to 
myfeet,  and  so  revealed  my  form  to  the  eyes  of  the  antelopes. 
This  produced  an  ,effeet  which  neither  the  crack  of  the  rifle  nor 
the  fall  of  their  comrade  had  done  ;  and  the  now  terrified 
animals  wheeled  about  and  sped  away  like  the  wind.  In  less 
than  two  minutes,  they  were  beyond  the  reach  of  vision. 

The  next  question  that  arose  was  how  I  was  to  get  across 
the  barranca.  The  tempting  morsel  lay  upon  the  other  side, 
and  I  therefore  set  about  examining  the  chasm  in  order  to 
find  a  practicable  crossing.  This  I  fortunately  discovered.  On 
both  sides,  the  cliff  was  somewhat  broken  down,  and  might  be 
scaled,  though  not  without  considerable  difficulty. 

After  once  more  looking  to  the  security  of  my  horse's  trail- 
rope,  I  placed  my  rifle  where  I  had  slept,  and  set  out  to  cross 
the  barranca,  taking  only  my  knife.  I  could  have  no  use  for  the 
gun,  and  it  would  hinder  me  in  scaling  the  cliffs.  I  got  to  the 
bottom  of  the  ravine,  and  commenced  ascending  on  the  opposite 
side  where  it  was  steeper  ;  but  I  was  assisted  by  the  branches 
of  the  trailing  cedar  that  grew  among  the  rocks.  I  noticed, 
and  with  some  surprise,  that  the  path  must  have  been  used 
oefore,  either  by  men  or  animals. 

The  soil  that  lay  upon  the  ledges  was  "  paddlid  "  as  by  feet, 
and  the  rock  in  some  places  scratched  and  discolored.  These 
indications  only  caused  me  a  momentary  reflection.  I  was  too 
hungry  to  dwell  upon  any  thought  but  that  of  eating. 

At  length  I  reached  the  scarp  of  the  cliff,  and  climbing  out 
upon  the  prairie,  soon  stood  over  the  carcass  of  the  prong-hora, 


CHASED   BY   A   "GRIZZLY."  123 

My  k-rfffe  was  out,  and  next  moment  I  was  busy  playing  the  part 
of  butcher. 

You  will  no  doubt  fancy  that  the  next  thing  I  did  was  to  go 
in  search  of  something  to  make  a  fire  for  the  purpose  of  cook 
ing.  I  did  nothing  of  the  sort ;  the  next  thing  I  did  was  to 
eat  ray  breakfast.  /  ate  it  raw ;  and  had  you  been  in  my 
situation,  delicate  as  you  are,  you  would  have  done  the  same. 

It  is  true  that,  after  I  had  satisfied  the  first  cravings  of  appe 
tite  with  the  tongue  of  the  antelope  and  a  few  morsels  of  steak, 
I  became  more  fastidious,  and  thought  a  little  roasting  might 
improve  the  venison.  For  this  purpose,  I  was  about  to  return 
to  the  barranca,  in  order  to  gather  some  sticks  of  the  cedar-wood, 
when  my  eyes  fell  upon  an  object  that  drove  all  thoughts  of 
cookery  out  of  my  head,  and  sent  a  thrill  of  terror  to  my  heart. 
The  object  in  question  was  a  large  animal,  which  I  at  once 
recognized  as  the  grizzly  bear,  the  most  dreaded  of  0,11  creatures 
that  inhabit  the  prairie. 


CHAPTER,    XXII. 

CHASED     BY     A      "GRIZZLY." 

THE  bear  was  one  of  the  largest  of  his  kind  ;  but  it  wa»  not 
his  size  that  impressed  me  with  fear,  so  much  as  the  knowledge 
of  his  fierce  nature.  It  was  not  the  first  time  I  had  encountered 
the  grizzly  bear  ;  and  I  knew  his  habits  well.  I  was  rather  sur 
prised  at  seeing  one  in  that  region.  The  range  of  this  species  is 
more  to  the  west — among  the  defiles  of  the  Rocky  Mountains — 
but  individuals  occasionally  wander  as  far  east  as  the  meridian 
of  the  Mississippi.  The  one  before  me  was  of  a  yellowish-red 
,-olor,  with  legs  and  feet  nearly  black  ;  but  color  is^no  character- 


124:  THE    WAK- TRAIL. 

istic  among  these  animals — scarce  two  of  them  being  alike  in 
this  respect.  I  was  familiar  with  the  form  and  aspect,  and  could 
not  be  mistaken  ;  I  recognized  the  long  shaggy  pelage,  the 
straight  front,  and  broad  facial  disk,  which  distinguish  this 
species  from  the  Ursus  Americanus.  The  yellow  eyes,  the  huge 
teeth,  but  half-concealed  by  the  lips,  the  long-curving  claws — the 
most  prominent  marks  of  the  Ursus  ferox,  as  they  are  his  most 
formidable  means  of  attack — were  all  remembered. 

When  my  eyes  first  rested  upon  this  monster,  he  was  just 
emerging  out  of  the  barranca  at  the  very  spot  where  I  had 
climbed  up  myself !  It  was  his  tracks,  then,  I  had  observed, 
while  scaling  the  cliff  ! 

On  reaching  the  level  of  the  prairie,  he  advanced  a  pace  or 
two,  and  then  halting,  reared  himself  up  and  stood  upon  his  hind 
legs  ;  at  the  same  time,  he  uttered  a  snorting  sound,  which  re 
sembled  the  "  blowing  "  of  hogs  when  suddenly  startled  in  the 
forest.  For  some  moments  he  remained  in  this  upright  attitude, 
rubbing  his  head  with  his  fore  paws,  and  playing  them  about 
after  the  manner  of  monkeys.  In  fact,  as  he  stood  fronting  me, 
he  looked  not  unlike  a  gigantic  ape  ! 

When  I  say  that  I  was  terrified  by  the  presence  of  this  unwel 
come  intruder,  I  speak  no  more  than  truth.  Had  I  been  on 
horseback — on  the  back  of  Moro — I  should  have  regarded  the 
creature  no  more  than  the  snail  that  crawled  upon  the  grass 
The  grizzly  bear  is  too  slow  to  overtake  a  horse  ;  but  I  was 
afoot,  and  well  knew  that  the  animal  could  outrun  me,  however 
swift  I  deemed  myself. 

To  suppose  that  he  would  not  attack  me  would  have  been  to 
suppose  an  improbability.  I  did  not  count  upon  such  a  thing  ; 
1  knew  too  well  the  disposition  of  the  enemy  that  approached. 
I  knew  that  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  the  grizzly  bear  is  the  assail 
ant — that  no  animal  in  America  will  willingly  risk  a  contest  with 
him  ;  and  it  is  not  certain  that  the  lion  of  Africa  would  wear  hia 
laurels  after  an  encounter  with  this  fierce  quadruped. 


CHASED   BY    A    "  GRIZZLY."  125 

Man  himself  shuns  such  au  encounter,  unless  mounted  upon 
the  friendly  horse  ;  and  even  then,  where  the  ground  is  not  clear 
and  open,  the  prudent  trapper  always  gives  "old  Ephrairu'1 — 
the  prairie  sobriquet  of  the  grizzly — a  wide  berth,  and  rides  on 
without  molesting  him.  The  white  hunter  reckons  a  grizzly 
bear  equal  in  prowess  to  two  ludians  ;  while  the  Indian  accounts 
the  destruction  of  one  of  these  animals  a  great  feat  in  his  life's 
history.  Among  Indian  braves,  a  necklace  of  bear's  claws  is  a 
badge  of  honor — since  these  adornments  can  only  be  worn  by 
the  man  who  has  himself  killed  the  animals  from  which  they  have 
been  taken. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  grizzly  bear  fears  no  adversary  ;  he 
assails  the  largest  animals  on  sight.  The  elk,  the  moose,  the 
bison,  or  wild  horse,  if  caught,  is  instantly  killed.  With  a  blow 
of  his  paw,  he  can  lay  open  the  flesh,  as  if  it  had  been  gashed 
with  an  axe  ;  and  he  can  drag  the  body  of  a  full-grown  buffalo 
to  any  distance.  He  rushes  upon  man,  whether  mounted  or 
afoot ;  and,  ere  now,  a  dozen  hunters  have  retreated  before  his 
furious  assault.  A  dozen  bullets — ay,  nearly  twice  that  number 
— have  been  fired  into  the  body  of  a  grizzly  bear  without  killing 
him  ;  and  only  a  shot  through  the  brain  or  the  heart  will  prove 
instantaneously  mortal.  Gifted  with  such  tenacity  of  life  and 
sanguinary  fierceness  of  disposition,  no  wonder  the  grizzly  bear 
is  a  dreaded  creature.  Were  he  possessed  of  the  fleetness  of  tho 
lion  or  tiger,  he  would  be  a  more  terrible  assailant  than  either  ; 
and  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  his  haunts  would  be  unap 
proachable  by  man.  He  is  slow,  however,  compared  with  the 
horse  ;  and  there  is  another  circumstance  scarcely  less  favorable 
to  those  who  pass  through  his  district — he  is  not  a  tree-climber. 
Indeed,  he  does  not  affect  the  forest ;  but  there  is  usually  some 
timber  in  the  neighborhood  of  his  haunts  ;  and  many  a  life  has 
been  saved  by  his  intended  victim  having  taken  refuge  in  a  tree, 

Well  acquainted  with  these  points  in  the  natural  history  of  the 
grizzly  bear,  and  you  may  fancy  the  feelings  I  experienced  at 


126  THE    WAB-TBAIL. 

finding  myself  in  the  presence  of  one  of  the  largest  and  fiercest, 
upon  the  naked  plain  alone,  dismounted,  almost  unarmed  ! 
There  was  not  a  bush  where  I  could  hide  myself,  not  a  tree  into 
which  I  might  climb.  There  was  no  means  of  escape,  and  almost 
none  of  defence  ;  the  knife  was  the  only  weapon  I  had  with  me  ; 
my  rifle  I  had  left  upon  the  other  side  of  the  barranca,  and  to 
reach  it  was  out  of  the  question.  Even  could  I  have  got  to  the 
path  that  led  down  the  cliff,  it  would  have  been  madness  to 
attempt  crossing  there ;  although  not  a  tree-climber,  the  grizzly 
bear,  by  means  of  his  great  claws,  could  have  scaled  the  cliff 
more  expeditiously  than  I.  I  should  have  been  caught  before  I 
could  have  reached  the  bottom  of,the  ravine. 

The  bear  was  directly  in  the  path.  It  would  have  been  lite 
rally  running  "  into  his  arms"  to  have  gone  that  way  ! 

These  reflections  occupy  minutes  of  your  time  to  read;  1 
thought  them  in  less  than  moments.  A  single  glance  around 
showed  me  the  utter  helplessness  of  my  situation  ;  I  saw  there 
was  no  alternative  but  a  desperate  conflict — a  conflict  with  the 
knife  ! 

Despair  that  for  a  moment  had  unnerved,  now  had  1he  effect 
of  bracing  me  ;  and,  fronting  my  fierce  foe,  I  stood  ready  to  re 
ceive  him. 

I  had  heard  of  hunters  having  conquered  and  killed  the  grizzly 
bear  with  no  other  weapon  than  a  knife,  but  after  a  terrible  and 
protracted  struggle — after  many  wounds  and  sore  loss  of  blood. 
I  had  read  in  the  book  of  a  naturalist,  that  "  a  man  might  end 
a  struggle  with  a  bear  iu  a  few  moments,  if  one  hand  be  suffi 
ciently  at  liberty  to  grasp  the  throat  of  the  animal  with  the 
thumb  and  fingers  externally,  just  at  the,  root  of  the  tongue,  as  a 
slight  degree  of  compression  there  will  generally  suffice  to  pro 
duce  a  spasm  of  the  glottis  that  will  soon  suffocate  the  bear 
beyond  the  power  of  offering  resistance  or  doing  injury  !" 

Beautiful  theory  !  Sagacious  naturalist  !  How  would  you 
like  to  try  the  experiment  ?  Have  you  ever  heard  of  birds  being 


CHASED   BY    A    "  GKIZZLY."  127 

caught  by  the  application  of  "salt  to  the  tail?"  The  theory  is 
as  correct  as  yours,  and  I  am  certain  the  practice  of  it  would  be 
not  more  difficult  1 

But  I  digress  among  these  after-thoughts.  I  had  no  time  to 
reflect  upon  ''compressions  of  the  tongue"  or  " spasms  of  the 
glottis."  My  antagonist  soon  finished  his  reconnaissance  of  me, 
and,  dropping  upon  all-fours,  he  uttered  a  loud  roar,  and  rushed 
towards  me  with  open  mouth. 

I  had  resolved  to  await  his  attack  ;  but  as  he  came  nearer, 
and  I  beheld  his  great  gaunt  form,  his  gleaming  teeth,  and  his 
senna-colored  eyes  flashing  like  fire,  I  changed  my  design  ;  a  new 
thought  came  suddenly  across  my  mind  ;  I  turned  and  fled. 

The  thought  that  prompted  me  to  adopt  this  course  was,  that 
the  bear  might  be  attracted  by  the  carcass  of  the  antelope,  and 
pause  over  it — perhaps  Long  enough  to  give  me  a  start,  or  enable 
me  to  escape  altogether.  If  not,  my  situation  could  be  no  worse 
than  it  then  was. 

Alas  1  my  hope  was  short-lived.  On  reaching  the  antelope, 
the  fierce  monster  made  no  halt.  I  glanced  back  ;  he  was  already 
past  it,  and  closing  rapidly  upon  my  heels  ! 

I  am  a  swift  runner— one  of  the  swiftest.  Many  a  school-day 
triumph  can  I  remember  ;  but  what  was  my  speed  against  such 
a  competitor  !  I  was  only  running  myself  out  of  breath.  I 
should  be  less  prepared  for  the  desperate  conflict  that  must  soon 
come  off ;  better  to  turn,  and  at  once  face  the  foe  ! 

I  had  half-resolved  myself — half-turned,  in  fact — when  an  ob 
ject  flashed  before  my  eyes  that  dazzled  them.  Inadvertently,  I 
had  run  in  the  direction  of  the  pond  ;  I  was  now  upon  its  shore 
It  was  the  sun  gleaming  from  the  water  that  dazzled  me.  The 
surface  was  caltn  as  a  mirror. 

A  rew  idea — a  sort  of  half-hope — rushed  instantaneously  into 
my  mind.  It  was  the  straw  to  the  drowning  man.  The  fierce 
brute  was  close  behind  me  ;  another  instant,  and  we  must  have 
grappled. 


128  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

"  Not  yet,  not  yet,n  thought  I,  "  I  shall  fight  him  in  the  wate 
— in  the  deep  water.  That  may  give  me  an  advantage  Per 
haps,  there,  the  contest  would  be  more  equal  ;  perhaps  I  may 
escape  by  diving  !" 

I  sprang  into  the  pond  without  a  momeat  of  hesitation.  The 
water  was  knee-deep.  I  plunged  onward,  making  for  the  cen 
tre  ;  the  spray  rose  around  me ;  the  pond  deepened  as  I 
advanced  ;  I  was  soon  up  to  the  waist. 

I  glanced  around  with  anxious  heart  ;  the  bear  was  standing 
upon  the  edge.  To  my  surprise  and  joy,  I  saw  that  he  had 
halted,  and  seemed  disinclined  to  follow  me  ? 

I  say,  to  rny  surprise  I  saw  this,  for  I  knew  that  water  has  no 
terrors  for  the  grizzly  bear  ;  I  knew  that  he  could  swim  ;  I  had 
seen  many  of  his  kind  crossing  deep  lakes  and  rapid  rivers. 
What,  then,  hindered  him  from  following  me  ? 

I  could  not  guess,  nor,  indeed,  did  I  try  to  guess,  at  the 
moment ;  I  thought  of  nothing  but  getting  farther  from  the 
shore  ;  and  waded  on  till  I  had  arrived  near  the  centre  of  the 
lake,  and  stood  neck  deep  in  the  water.  I  could  go  no  farther 
without  swimming,  and  therefore  came  to  a  stand,  with  my  face 
turned  towards  my  pursuer. 

I  watched  his  every  movement.  He  had  risen  once  more  upon 
his  hind-quarters,  and  stood  looking  after  me,  but  still  apparently 
without  any  intention  of  taking  to  the  water  1 

After  regarding  me  for  some  time,  he  fell  back  upon  all  fours, 
and  commenced  running  around  the  border  of  the  pond,  as  if 
searching  for  a  place  to  enter. 

There  were  not  over  two  hundred  paces  between  us,  for  the 
pond  was  only  twice  that  in  diameter.  He  could  soon  have 
reached  me,  had  he  felt  so  disposed  ;  but  for  some  reason  or 
other,  he  seemed  disinclined  to  a  "  swim." 

For  a  full  half  hour  he  kept  running  back  and  forth  along  the 
shore.  Besides  the  apprehension  in  which  his  presence  held  me, 
my  situation  was  far  from  comfortable.  Although  there  was  u 


CHASED    BY    A    "  GRIZZLY."  129 

warm  sun  overhead,  the  water  was  as  cold  as  ice,  and 
my  teeth  began  to  chatter  like  castanets.  I  knew  not  how  long 
the  scene  was  to  last.  I  well  knew  the  vengeful  disposition  of 
the  grizzly  bear,  and  the  untiring  pertinacity  with  which  he  fol 
lows  any  one  who  may  have  roused  his  resentment.  Fortunately, 
I  had  neither  wounded  nor  molested  him,  and  I  was  in  hopes 
that  my  innocence  in  this  respect  might  save  me  from  a  very 
protracted  siege.  I  had  no  other  hope  of  being  rescued  from 
my  perilous  situation. 

He  appeared  to  have  made  up  his  mind  to  wait  until  I  should 
come  out  •  though  once  or  twice  I  thought  he  was  about  to 
swim  towards  me  ;  for  he  halted  upon  the  very  edge,  craned  his 
head  over  the  water,  oscillating  the  fore  part  of  his  body,  as  if 
about  to  plunge  in.  After  mano2uvring  in  this  way  for  some 
time,  he  turned  away,  and  continued  to  pace  along  the  bank. 
What  he  thought  of  our  relative  situations,  I  cannot  guess.  A 
third  party,  who  might  have  been  spectator,  would  have  regarded 
the  tableau  as  comic  in  the  extreme.  Up  to  my  neck  in  the 
middle  of  the  pond,  with  only  my  head  appearing  above  the 
water,  I  must  have  presented  a  ludicrous  spectacle  ;  and  now 
that  I  think  of  it,  I  cannot  help  smiling  at  the  figure  I  must 
have  exhibited  at  that  moment.  I  did  not  laugh  at  it  then  ; 
I  was  too  badly  frightened  for  that.  There  was  no  laughter  in 
me. 

For  a  long  while — nearly  an  hour,  I  should  judge — the  bear 
remained  by  the  edge  of  the  pond.  Now  and  again,  he  made 
short  excursions  out  into  the  prairie  ;  but  soon  returned  again, 
and  regarded  me  afresh,  as  though  determined  not  to  lose  sight 
of  me  for  any  length  of  time.  I  was  in  hopes  that  he  might 
stray  round  to  the  other  side  of  the  pond,  and  give  me  the 
chance  of  making  a  rush  for  the  ravine  ;  but  no  ;  he  continued 
on  that  side  where  he  had  first  appeared,  as  though  he  sus* 
pected  my  design. 

I  began  to  despair.  I  shivered.  The  pond  must  have  been  a 

0* 


130  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

spring,  so  chill  were  its  waters.  I  shivered,  but  kept  ray  place  ; 
I  dared  not  move  out  of  it.  I  even  feared  to  agitate  the  water 
around  me,  lest  by  so  doing  I  might  excite  my  fierce  enemy,  and 
tempt  him  to  the  onset.  I  shivered  but  stood  still. 

My  patience  was  at  length  rewarded.  The  bear,  making  one 
of  his  short  tours  into  the  prairie,  espied  the  carcass  of  the  ante 
lope.  I  saw  that  he  had  halted  over  something,  though  I  could 
not  tell  what,  for  my  eyes  were  below  the  level  of  the  plain  ; 
presently,  his  head  was  raised  again,  and  in  his  jaws  were  the 
remains  of  the  prong-horn.  To  my  joy,  I  now  perceived  that  he 
was  dragging  it  towards  the  barranca  ;  and  in  another  minute 
he  had  disappeared  with  it  below  the  escarpment  of  the  cliflf. 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

THE     TOUGHEST      STRUGGLE      OF     MY     LIFE. 

I  SWAM  a  few  strokes,  and  then  wading  gently  and  without 
,  -olse,  I  climbed  out  upon  the  sandy  shore.  With  shivering 
trarae  and  dripping  garments,  I  stood,  uncertain  what  course  to 
pifsue.  I  was  upon  the  opposite  side  of  the  lake — I  mean 
opposite  to  where  I  had  entered  it.  I  had  chosen  that  side 
from  precaution — lest  the  bear  should  suddenly  return.  He 
m^ht  deposit  the  carcass  in  his  lair,  and  come  back  to  look  after 
me.  It  is  a  habit  of  these  animals,  when  not  pressed  by  imme 
diate  hunger,  to  bury  their  food  or  store  it  in  their  caves.  Even 
the  eating  of  the  antelope  would  have  been  an  affair  of  only  a 
few  minutes'  time.  The  bear  might  still  return,  more  fierce  that 
he  had  tasted  blood  I 

I  WiTb  filled  with  irresolution.  Should  I  fly  off  to  the  plaiu 
beyona  che  reach  of  pursuit  I  I  should  have  to  return  again  for 


THE   TOUGHEST   STKUGGLE   OF   MY    LIFE.  131 

v  -f  horse  and  rifle.  To  take  to  the  prairie  afoot  would  be  like 
going  to  sea  without  a  boat  ;  but,  even  had  I  been  sure  of 
reaching  the  settlements  in  safety  wjthout  my  horse,  I  could  not 
think  of  such  a  thing.  I  loved  my  Moro  too  well  to  leave  him 
behind  me  :  I  would  have  risked  life  itself  rather  than  part  with 
that  noble  creature.  No  ;  the  idea  of  deserting  him  was  not 
entertained  for  a  moment. 

But  how  was  I  to  join  him  ?  The  only  path  by  which  I 
could  cross  the  barranca,  had  just  been  taken  by  the  bear.  He 
was  no  doubt  still  upon  it,  in  the  bottom  of  the  ravine.  To 
attempt  passing  over,  would  be  to  bring  myself  once  more  under 
the  eyes  of  the  fierce  brute  ;  and  I  should  certainly  become  his 
victim. 

Another  idea  suggested  itself — to  go  up  the  barranca,  and  find 
another  crossing,  or  else  head  it  altogether,  and  come  down  upon 
the  opposite  side.  That  was  clearly  the.  best  plan. 

I  was  about  starting  forward  to  execute  it,  when,  to  my  dis 
may,  I  again  beheld  the  bear  ;  this  time,  not  upon  the  same  side 
with  myself,  but  upon  the  opposite  one,  where  Moro  was  pick 
eted  !  He  was  slowly  climbing  out  of  the  ravine,  and  when  1 
first  saw  him,  was  dragging  his  huge  body  over  the  escarpment 
of  the  cliff.  In  a  moment,  he  stood  erect  upon  the  open  plain. 

I  was  filled  with  a  new  consternation  ;  I  saw  too  surely  that 
he  was  about  to  attack  my  horse  ! 

The  latter  had  already  observed  the  bear's  approach,  and 
seemed  to  be  fully  aware  of  his  danger.  I  had  staked  him  at 
the  distance  of  about  four  hundred  yards  from  the  barranca,  an  i 
upon  a  lazo  of  about  twenty  in  length.  At  sight  of  the  bear, 
he  had  run  out  to  the  end  of  his  trail-rope,  and  was  snorting  and 
plunging  with  affright. 

This  new  dilemma  arrested  my  steps  and  I  stood  with  anxious 
feelings  to  watch  the  result.  I  had  no  hope  of  being  able  to 
yield  the  slightest  aid  to  my  poor  horse — at  least  none  occurred 
to  me  at  the  moment 


132  THE   WAR-TKAIL. 

The  bear  made  directly  towards  him,  and  my  heart  throbbed 
•wildly  as  I  beheld  the  fierce  monster  almost  within  clawing  dis 
tance.  The  horse  sprang  round,  however,  and  galloped  upon 
a  circle  of  which  the  lazo  was  the  radius.  I  knew,  from  the 
hard  jerks  he  had  already  given  to  the  rope,  that  there  was 
no  chance  of  its  yielding  and  setting  him  free.  No  ;  it  was  a 
raw-hide  lazo  of  the  toughest  thong.  I  knew  its  power,  and  I 
remembered  how  firmly  I  had  driven  home  the  picket-pin.  This 
I  had  now  cause  to  regret.  What  would  not  I  have  given  to 
have  drawn  the  blade  of  my  knife  across  that  rope  ! 

I  continued  to  watch  the  struggle  with  a  painful  feeling 
of  suspense.  The  horse  still  kept  out  of  reach  by  galloping 
around  the  circumference  of  the  circle,  while  the  bear  made 
his  attacks  by  crossing  its  chords  or  running  in  circles  of  les 
ser  diameter.  The  whole  scene  bore  a  resemblance  to  an  act  at 
the  Hippodrome,  Moro  being  the  steed,  and  the  bear  taking  the 
part  of  the  ring-master  ! 

Once  or  twice,  the  rope  circling  round,  and  quite  taut,  caught 
upon  the  legs  of  the  bear,  and  after  carrying  him  along  with  it 
for  some  distance,  flung  him  over  upon  his  back.  This  seemed 
to  add  to  his  rage,  and  after  rising  each  time,  he  ran  after 
the  horse  with  redoubled  fury.  I  might  have  been  amused  at 
the  singular  spectacle,  but  my  mind  was  too  painfully  agitated 
about  the  result. 

The  scene  continued  for  some  minutes  without  much  change  in 
the  relative  position  of  the  actors.  I  began  to  hope  that  the 
bear  might  be  baffled  after  all,  and  finding  the  horse  too  nimble 
for  him,  would  give  over  his  attempts,  particularly  as  I  had 
noticed  the  latter  administer  several  kicks  that  might  have  dis 
comfited  any  other  assailant ;  but  these  only  rendered  the  bear 
more  savage  and  vengeful.  , 

Just  at  this  moment  the  scene  assumed  a  new  phase,  likely  to 
bring  about  the  denoument.  The  rope  had  once  more  pressed 
against  the  benr  j  but  this  time,  instead  of  trying  to  avoid  it,  In* 


THE  TOUGHEST  STRUGGLE  OF  MY  LIFE.       133 

seized  it  in  his  teeth  and  paws.  I  thought  at  first  he  was  going 
to  cut  it,  and  this  was  exactly  what  I  wished  for  ;  but  no — tc 
my  consternation  I  saw  that  he  was  crawling  along  it  by  con 
stantly  renewing  his  hold,  and  thus  gradually  and  surely  drawing 
nearer  to  his  victim  !  The  horse  now  screamed  with  terror  ! 

I  could  bear  the  sight  no  longer.  I  remembered  that  I  had 
left  my  rifle  near  the  edge  of  the  barranca,  and  some  distance 
from  the  horse  ;  I  remembered,  too,  that  after  shooting  the  ante 
lope,  I  had  carefully  reloaded  it.  I  ran  forward  to  the  cliff,  and 
dashed  madly  down  its  face  ;  I  climbed  the  opposite  steep,  and 
clutching  the  gun,  rushed  towards  the  scene  of  strife. 

I  was  still  in  time  ;  the  bear  had  not  yet  reached  his  victim, 
though  now  within  less  than  six  feet  of  him. 

I  advanced  within  ten  paces,  and  fired.  As  though  my  shot 
had  cut  the  thong,  it  gave  way  at  the  moment  ;  and  the  horse 
with  a  wild  neigh  sprang  off  into  the  prairie  ! 

I  had  hit  the  bear,  as  afterwards  ascertained,  but  not  in  a 
yital  part,  and  my  bullet  had  no  more  effect  upon  him  than  if  it 
had  been  a  drop  of  snipe-shot.  It  was  the  strength  of  despair 
that  had  broken  the  rope,  and  set  free  the  steed. 

It  was  my  turn  now  ;  for  the  bear,  as  soon  as  he  perceived 
that  the  horse  had  escaped  him,  rushed  forward  upon  me,  utter 
ing  as  he  did  so  a  loud  cry.  I  had  no  choice  but  fight.  I  had 
no  time  to  reload.  I  struck  the  brute  once  with  my  clubbed 
rifle,  and  flinging  the  gun  away,  grasped  the  readier  knife.  With 
the  strong  keen  blade — the  knife  was  a  bowie — I  struck  out 
before  me  ;  but  the  next  moment  I  felt  myself  grappled  and  held 
fast.  The  sharp  claws  tore  up  my  flesh  ;  one  paw  was  griped 
over  my  hips,  another  rested  on  my  shoulder,  while  the  white 
teeth  gleamed  before  my  eyes.  My  knife-arm  was  free — I  had 
watched  this  when  grappling — and  with  all  the  energy  of  despair, 
I  plunged  the  keen  blade  between  the  ribs  of  my  antagonist.  I 
sought  for  the  h'  art  at  every  stab. 

We  rolled  together  ta  the  ground,  over  and  over  again.     The 


THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

red  blood  covered  us  both.  I  saw  it  welling  from  the  lips  of  the 
fierce  monster,  and  I  joyed  to  think  that  my  knife  reached  his 
vitals.  I  was  wild — I  was  mad — I  was  burning  with  a  fierce 
vengeance — with  anger,  such  as  one  might  feel  for  a  human  foe  ' 

Over  and  over  the  ground  in  the  fierce  struggle  of  life  and 
death.  Again  I  felt  the  terrible  claws,  the  tearing  teeth  ;  again 
went  my  blade  up  to  the  hilt. 

O  God  !  how  many  lives  has  he  ?  Will  he  never  yield  to  the 
red  steel  ?  See  the  blood  ! — rivers  of  blood — the  prairie  is  red 
— we  roll  in  blood.  I  am  sick  at  the  sight — sick — I  faint.  O 
Heavenly  Father  I  *  *  *  * 


CHAPTER    XXIY. 

OLD    COMRADES. 

I  FANCIED  myself  in  a  future  world,  battling  with  some  fearful 
demon.  No ;  those  forms  I  see  around  me  are  of  the  earth.  I 
still  live ! 

My  wounds  pain  me.  Some  one  is  binding  them  up.  His  hand 
is  rude  ;  but  the  tender  expression  of  his  eyes  tells  me  that  his 
heart  is  kind.  Who  is  he  ?  Whence  came  he  ? 

I  am  still  upon  the  wide  prairie  ;  I  see  that  clear  enough. 
Where  is  my  terrible  antagonist  ?  I  remember  our  fierce  fight, 
everything  that  occurred  ;  but — 1  thought  he  had  killed  me ! 

I  certainly  was  dead.  But  no  ;  it  cannot  have  been.  I  still 
live  ! 

I  see  above  me  the  blue  sky,  around  me  the  green  plain. 
Near  me  are  forms — the  forms  of  men,  and  yonder  are  horses  ! 


!=•-—"     1=3'  ~r~=^i  — — '" 


1  was  wild— I  was  mad— I  was  burning  with  a  fierce  vengeance— with  anger,  such  as 
one  might  feel  for  a  human  foe  !  Over  and  over  the  ground  in  the  fierce  struggle  of  life 
and  death.  Again  I  felt  the  terrible  claws,  the  tearing  teeth ;  again  went  my  blade  u*. 
'.«  the  hilt.— PAGK1&4 


OLD   COMBADE8.  135 

Into  whose  hands  have  I  fallen  ?  Whoever  they  be,  they  are 
friends  ;  they  must  have  rescued  me  from  the  gripe  of  the  mon 
ster.  But  how  ?  No  one  was  in  sight :  how  could  they  have 
arrived  in  time  ?  I  would  ask,  but  have  not  strength  to  speak 
to  them  1 

The  men  are  still  bending  over  me.  I  observe  one  with  large 
beard,  and  brown  bushy  whiskers.  There  is  another  face,  old 
and  thin,  and  tanned  to  a  copper  color.  My  eyes  wander  from 
one  to  the  other;  some  distant  recollections  stir  within  me.  Those 

faces  .      Now   I   see   them    but  dimly — I   see   them   no 

longer *     *     *     * 

I  had  fainted,  and  was  again  insensible. 

Once  more  I  became  conscious,  and  this  time  felt  stronger.  I 
could  better  understand  what  was  passing  around  me.  I  observed 
that  the  sun  was  going  down  ;  but  a  buffalo  robe,  suspended 
upon  two  upright  saplings,  guarded  his  rays  from  the  spot  where 
I  lay.  My  scrape*  was  under  me,  and  my  head  rested  in  my  sad 
dle,  over  which  another  robe  had  been  laid.  I  lay  upon  my  side, 
and  the  position  gave  me  a  commanding  view  of  all  that  wag 
passing.  A  fire  was  burning  near,  by  which  were  two  persons, 
one  seated,  the  other  standing  ;  my  eyes  passed  from  one  to  the 
other,  scanning  each  in  turn. 

The  younger  stood  leaning  on  his  rifle,  looking  into  the  fire. 
"He  was  the  type  of  a  'mountain  man' — a  trapper.  He  was 
full  six  feet  in  his  mocassins,  and  of  a  build  that  suggested  the 
idea  of  strength  and  Saxon  ancestry.  His  arras  were  like  young 
oaks  ;  and  his  hand  grasping  the  muzzle  of  his  gun  appeared 
large,  fleshless,  and  muscular.  His  cheek  was  broad  and  firm, 
and  was  partially  covered  with  a  bushy  whisker,  that  met  over 
the  chin  ;  while  a  beard  of  the  same  color — dull  brown — fringed 
the  tips.  The  eye  was  grey,  or  bluish  gray,  small,  well  set,  and 
rarely  wandering.  The  hair  was  light  brown  ;  and  the  complex 
ion  of  the  face,  which  had  evidently  once  been  blonde,  was  now 
nearly  as  dark  as  that  of  a  half-breed.  Sun-tan  had  produced 


136  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

this  metamorphosis.  The  countenance  was  prepossessing  :  it 
might  have  been  once  handsome.  Its  expression  was  bold,  but 
good-humored,  and  bespoke  a  kind  arid  generous  nature." 

The  dress  of  this  individual  was  the  well-known  costume  of  his 
class — a  hunting-shirt  of  dressed  deerskin,  smoked  to  the  soft 
ness  of  a  glove  ;  leggings  reaching  to  the  hips,  and  fringed  down 
the  seams  ;  mocassins  of  true  Indian  make,  soled  with  buffalo 
hide  (parfteche.)  The  hunting-shirt  was  belted  around  the  waist, 
but  open  above,  so  as  to  leave  the  throat  and  part  of  the  breast 
uncovered  ;  but  over  the  breast  could  be  seen  the  under-shirt,  of 
finer  material — the  dressed  skin  of  the  young  antelope,  or  the 
fawn  of  the  fallow  deer.  A  short  cape,  part  of  the  hunting-shirt, 
hung  gracefully  over  the  shoulders,  ending  in  a  deep  fringe  cut 
out  of  the  buckskin  itself.  A  similar  fringe  embellished  the 
draping  of  the  skirt.  On  the  head  was  a  raccoon  cap — the  face 
of  the  animal  over  the  front,  while  the  barred  tail,  like  a  plume, 
fell  drooping  over  the  left  shoulder. 

The  accoutrements  were  a  bullet-pouch,  made  from  the  un 
dressed  skin  of  a  tiger-cat,  ornamented  with  the  head  of  the 
beautiful  summer-duck.  This  hung  under  the  right  arm,  sus 
pended  by  a  shoulder-strap  ;  and  attached  in  a  similar  manner 
was  a  huge  crescent-shaped  horn,  upon  which  was  carved  many 
a  strange  souvenir.  His  arras  consisted  of  a  knife  and  pistol — 
both  stuck  in  the  waist-belt — and  a  long  rifle,  so  straight  that 
the  line  of  the  barrel  seemed  scarcely  to  deflect  from  that  of  the 
butt. 

But  little  attention  had  been  paid  to  ornament  in  either  his 
dress,  arms,  or  equipments  ;  and  yet  there  was  a  gracefulness  in 
the  hang  of  his  tunic-like  shirt,  a  stylishness  about  the  fringing 
and  bead-embroidery,  and  an  air  of  jauntiness  in  the  set  of  the 
'coon-skin  cap,  that  showed  the  wearer  was  not  altogether  uii- 
mindful  of  his  personal  appearance.  A  small  pouch  or  case, 
ornamented  with  stained  porcupine  quills,  hung  down  upon  his 
breast.  This  was  the  pipe-holder — no  doubt  &gagc  cT amour  from 


OLD   COMRADES.  '31 

some  dark-eyed,  dark-skinned  damsel,  like  himself  a  denizen  of 
the  wilderness. 

His  companion,  was  very  different  in  appearance  ;  unlike  him 
— in  almost  every  respect  unlike  anybody  I  had  ever  seea> 
excepting  himself. 

The  whole  appearance  of  the  individual  was  odd  and  striking. 
He  was  seated  011  the  opposite  side  of  the  fire,  with  his  face 
partially  turned  towards  me,  and  his  head  sunk  down  between  a 
pair  of  long  lank  thighs.  He  looked  more  like  the  stump  of  a 
tree  dressed  in  dirt-colored  buckskin  than  a  human  being  ;  and 
had  his  arms  not  been  in  motion,  he  might  have  been  mistaken 
for  such  an  object.  Both  his  arms  and  jaws  were  moving  ;  the 
latter  engaged  in  polishing  a  rib  of  meat  which  he  had  half 
roasted  over  the  coals. 

His  dress — if  dress  it  could  be  called — was  simple  as  it  was 
savage.  It  consisted  of  what  might  have  once  been  a  hunting- 
shirt,  but  which  now  looked  more  like  a  leathern  bag  with  the 
bottom  ripped  open,  and  sleeves  sewed  into  the  sides.  It  was  of 
a  dirty  brown  color,  wrinkled  at  the  hollow  of  the  arms,  patched 
around  the  armpits,  and  greasy  all  over  ;  it  was  fairly  "  caked" 
with  dirt  I  There  was  no  attempt  at  either  ornament  or  fringe. 
There  had  been  a  cape,  but  this  had  evidently  been  drawn  upon 
from  time  to  time,  for  patches  and  other  uses,  until  scarce  a  ves 
tige  of  it  remained.  The  leggings  and  moccasins  were  on  a  par 
with  the  shirt,  and  seemed  to  have  been  manufactured  out  of  the 
same  hide.  They,  too,  were  dirt-brown,  patched,  wrinkled,  and 
greasy.  They  did  not  meet  each  other,  but  left  a  piece  of  ankle 
bare,  and  that  also  was  dirt-brown,  like  the  buckskin.  There 
was  no  undershirt,  vest,  or  other  garment  to  be  seen,  with  tha 
exception  of  a  close-fitting  cap,  which  had  once  been  catskin  ; 
but  the  hair  was  all  worn  off  it,  leaving  a  greasy,  leathery-look 
ing  surface,  that  corresponded  well  with  the  other  parts  of  the 
aress.  Cap,  shirt,  leggings,  and  moccasins,  looked  as  if  they 
had  never  been  stripped  off  since  the  day  they  ^ere  first  tried 


138  THE    WAE-TKA1L. 

on,  and  that  might  have  been  many  a  year  ago  1  The  shirt  was 
open,  displaying  the  naked  breast  and  throat,  and  these,  as  well 
as  the  face,  hands,  and  ankles,  had  been  tanned  by  the  sun  and 
smoked  by  the  fire  to  the  hue  of  rusty  copper.  The  whole  man, 
clothes  and  all,  looked  as  if  he  had  been  smoked  on  purpose  ! 

His  face  bespoke  a  man  of  sixty,  or  thereabouts  ;  his  features 
were  sharp,  and  somewhat  aquiline  ;  and  the  small  eyes  were 
dark,  quick,  and  piercing.  His  hair  was  black,  and  cut  short  ; 
his  complexion  had  been  naturally  brunette,  though  there  was 
nothing  of  the  Frenchman  or  Spaniard  in  his  physiognomy.  He 
was  more  likely  of  the  black-Saxon  breed. 

As  I  looked  at  this  man,  I  saw  that  there  was  a  strangeness 
about  him  independent  of  the  odduess  of  his  attire.  There  was 
something  peculiar  about  his  head — something  wanting. 

What  was  it  that  was  wanting  ?     It  was  his  ears  ! 

There  is  something  awful  in  a  man  without  his  ears.  It  sug 
gests  some  horrid  drama — some  terrible  scene  of  cruel  vengeance : 
it  suggests  the  idea  of  crime  committed  and  punishment 
inflicted." 

I  might  have  had  such  painful  imaginings,  but  that  I  chanced 
to  know  why  those  ears  were  wanting.  I  remembered  the  man 
who  was  sitting  before  me  ? 

It  seemed  a  dream,  or  rather  the  re-enactment  of  an  old  scene. 
Y"ears  before,  I  had  seen  that  individual,  and  in  a  situation  very 
similar.  My  eyes  first  rested  upon  him,  seated  as  he  was  now, 
over  a  fire,  roasting  and  eating.  The  attitude  was  the  same; 
the  tout  ensemble  in  no  respect  different.  There  was  the  same 
greasy  catskin  cap,  the  same  scant  leggings,  the  same  brown 
buckskin  covering  over  the  lanky  frame.  Perhaps  neither  shirt 
nor  leggings  had  been  taken  off  since  I  last  saw  them.  They 
appeared  no  dirtier,  however  ;  that  was  not  possible.  Nor  was 
it  possible,  having  once  looked  upon  the  wearer,  ever  to  forget 
him.  I  remembered  him  at  a  glance — Reuben  Rowling,  or  "  old 
Rube,"  as  he  was  better  known,  one  of  the  most  celebrated  of 


A    QUEER   CONVERSATION.  139 

trappers.  The  younger  man  was  "  Bill  Garey,"  another  "moun 
tain  man,"  and  old  Rube's  partner  and  constant  companion. 

My  heart  gladdened  at  the  sight  of  these  old  acquaintances. 
I  now  knew  I  was  with  friends. 

I  was  about  to  call  out  to  them,  when  my  eye  wandering 
beyond  rested  upon  the  group  of  horses,  and  what  I  saw  startled 
me  from  my  recumbent  position.  There  was  Rube's  old,  blind, 
bare-ribbed,  high-boned,  long-eared  mare-mustang.  Her  lank 
grizzled  body,  naked  tail,  and  mulish  look,  I  remembered  well. 
There,  too,  was  the  large  powerful  horse  of  Garey,  and  my  own 
steed  Moro  picketed  beside  them  !  This  was  a  joyful  surprise 
to  me,  as  he  had  galloped  off  after  his  escape  from  the  bear,  and 
I  had  felt  anxious  about  recovering  him.  But  it  was  not 
the  sight  of  Moro  that  caused  me  to  start  with  astonishment  ; 
it  was  at  the  presence  of  another  well-remembered  animal — 
another  horse.  Was  I  mistaken  ?  Was  it  an  illusion  ?  Were 
my  eyes  or  my  fancy  again  mocking  me  ?  Xo  !  It  was  a  reality. 
There  was  the  noble  form,  the  graceful  and  symmetrical  outlines, 
the  smooth  coat  of  silver  white,  the  flowing  tail,  the  upright 
jetty  ears — all  were  before  my  eyes.  It  was  he — the  white  steed 
of  the  prairies ! 


CHAPTER  XXY. 

A      QUEER      CONVERSATION. 

.£>7K'"<C     &*Jr*:'     -   .''•  -  •:••-  '••  /;-•..;     &M     :-     -":-\-,       vrs; 

THE  surprise,  with  the  exertion  I  had  made  in  raising  myseif, 
overcame  me,  and  I  fell  back  in  a  swoon  It  was  but  a  momen 
tary  dizziness,  and  in  a  short  while  I  was  again  conscious. 
Meanwhile,  the  two  men  had  approached,  and  having  applied 
something  cold  to  my  temples,  stood  near  me  conversing  1  I 
heard  every  word. 


140 


THE    WAR-TKAIL. 


"Burn  the  weemen  !"  (I  recognized  Rube's  voice);  "  thuf 
allers  a  gittin  a  fellur  into  some  scrape.  Hyur's  a  putty  pickle 
to  be  in,  an  all  through  a  gurl.  Burn  the  weemen  !  sez  I." 

"  We-ell,"  drawlingly  responded  Garey,  "  pre-haps  he  loves 
the  gal.  They  sez  she's  mighty  hansum.  Love's  a  strong 
feelin,  Rube." 

Although  I  had  my  eyes  partially  open,  I  could  not  see  Rube, 
as  he  was  standing  behind  the  suspended  robe  ;  but  a  gurgling, 
clucking  sound — somewhat  like  that  made  in  pouring  water 
from  a  bottle — reached  my  ears,  and  told  me  what  effect  Garey's 
remark  had  produced  upon  his  companion. 

"  Cuss  me,  Bill  1"  the  latter  at  length  rejoined — "  cuss  me  ! 
ef  yur  ain't  as  darned  a  fool  as  the  young  fellur  hisself  !  Love's 
a  strong  feelin  1  He,  he,  he — ho,  ho,  hoo  !  Wai,  I  guess  it 
must  a  be  to  make  sich  dodrotted  fools  o'  razeonable  men.  As 
yit,  it  ain't  fooled  this  child,  I  reck'n." 

"You  never  knewd  what  love  wur,  old  hoss  ?" 

"  Thurr  yur  off  o'  the  trail,  Bill-ee.  I  did  oncest — yis  ;  oucest 
I  wur  in  love,  plum  to  the  toe-nails.  But  thet  wur  a  gurl  to  git 
sweet  on.  Ye-es,  thet  she  wur,  an  no  mistake  !" 

This  speech  ended  in  a  sigh  that  sounded  like  the  blowing  of 
a  buffalo. 

"  Who  wur  the  gal  ?"  inquired  Garey,  after  a  pause.  "  White 
or  Injun  ?" 

"  Injun  !"  exclaimed  Rube,  in  a  contemptuous  tone  :  "  no  :  1 
reck'n  not,  boyee.  I  don't  say  thet,  for  a  wife,  an  Injun  ain't 
jest  as  good  as  a  white,  an  more  convaynient  she  are  to  git  suet 
of  when  yur  tired  o'  her.  I've  bed  a  good  grist  of  squaws  in  my 
time — hef-a-dozen  maybe,  and  maybe  more.  This  I  kin  say,  an 
no  boastin  neyther,  thet  I  never  sold  a  squaw  yet  for  a  plug  o' 
bacca  less  than  I  gin  for  her  ;  an  on  most  o'  'em  I  made  a  clur 
profit.  Thurfur,  Billee,  I  don't  object  to  an  Injun  for  a  wife  : 
but  wives  is  one  thing,  an  sweethearts  is  diffrent  when  it  comes 
to  thet.  Now,  the  gurl  Pra  a-talkiu  'bout  wur  ny  sweetheart." 


A   QUEER   CONVERSATION.  141 

"  She  wur  a  white  gal,  then  ?" 

"  Are  allyblaster  white  ?  She  wur  white  as  the  bleached 
Bkull  of  a  baffler  ;  an  sech  bar  I  'Twur  as  red  as  the  brush  o'  a 
kitfox.  Eyes  too  !  Ah,  Billee,  boy,  them  wur  eyes  to  squint 
out  o'  1  They  wur  as  big  as  a  buck's,  an  as  soft  as  smoked  fawn- 
skin.  I  never  seed  a  pair  o'  eyes  like  hern'  1" 

"  What  WUP  her  name  ?" 

"  Her  name  wur  Char'ty,  an  as  near  as  I  kin  remember  'twur 
Holmes — Char'ty  Holmes.  Ye-es,  thet  wur  the  name.  Twur 
upon  Big-duck  crick  in  the  Tennessee  bottom,  the  place  whur 
this  child  chawed  his  fust  hoe-cake.  Let  me  see — it  ur  now 
more  'n  thirty  yeer  ago.  I  fust  met  the  gurl  at  a  candy-pullin  j 
an  I  recollex  well  we  wur  put  to  eat  taffy  agin  one  another.  We 
ate  till  our  lips  met  ;  an  then  the  kissin — thet  wur  kissiu,  boyee. 
Char'ty's  lips  wur  sweeter  than  the  candy  !  We  met  oncest  agin 
at  a  corn-shuckin,  an  arterwards  at  a  blanket-trampin,  an  thur's 
whur  the  bisness  wur  done.  I  seed  Char'ty's  ankles  as  she  wur 
a-trampin  out  the  blankets,  as  white  an  smooth  as  peeled  poplar. 
Arter  thet  turn,  all  up  wi'  Reuben  Rawlings.  I  approached  the 
gurl  'ithout  more  ado  ;  an  sez  I  :  4  Char'ty,'  sez  I,  '  I  freeze 
to  you  ;'  an  sez  she  :  '  Reuben,  I  cottons  to  you.'  So  I  iramee- 
diantly  made  up  to  the  ole  squire — thet  ur  Squire  Holmes — an 
axed  him  for  his  darter.  Durn  the  ole  skunk  !  he  refused  to  gin 
her  to  me  ! 

"Jest  then,  thur  cum  a  pedlar  from  Kinneticut,  all  kivered  wi' 
fine  broadcloth.  He  made  love  to  Char'ty  ;  an  wud  yur  believe 
it,  Bill  ?  the  gurl  married  him!  Cuss  the  weemen  1  thur  all 
alike. 

"  I  met  the  pedlar  shortly  arter,  an  gin  him  sech  a  larrupin  as 
laid  him  up  for  a  mouth  ;  but  I  had  to  clur  out  for  it,  an  I  then 
tuk  to  the  plains.  I  never  seed  Char'ty  arterward,  but  I  heerd 
o'  her  oncest  from  a  fellur  I  kim  across  on  the  Massoury.  She 
wur  a  splendid  critter  ;  an  if  she  ur  still  livin,  she  must  hev  a 
#ood  grist  o'  young  uns  by  this,  for  the  fellur  said  she'  hed  twins 


THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

shortly  arter  sue  wur  married,  with  har  an  eyes  jest  like  herself. 
Wai,  thur's  no  kalkalatin  on  weemen,  anyhow.  Jest  see  what 
this  young  fellur's  got  by  tryin  to  sarve  'em.  Wagh  1" 

Up  to  this  moment  I  took  no  part  in  the  conversation,  nor 
had  I  indicated  to  either  of  the  trappers  that  I  was  aware  of 
their  presence.  Everything  was  enveloped  in  mystery.  The 
presence  of  the  white  steed  had  sufficiently  astonished  me,  and 
not  less  that  of  my  old  acquaintances,  Rube  and  Garey.  The 
whole  scene  was  a  puzzle  ;  I  was  now  equally  at  a  loss  to  ac 
count  for  their  being  acquainted  with  the  cause  that  had  brought 
me  there.  That  they  were  so,  was  evident  from  their  conversa 
tion.  Where  could  they  have  procured  their  information  on  this 
head  ?  Neither  of  them  had  been  at  the  rancheria,  nor  in  the 
army  anywhere  ;  certainly  not,  else  I  should  have  heard  of  them. 
Indeed,  either  of  them  would  have  made  himself  known  to  me,  as 
a  strong  friendship  had  formerly  existed  between  us. 

But  they  alone  could  give  me  an  explanation,  and,  without 
further  conjecture,  I  turned  to  them. 

"  Rube  I  Garey  1"  I  said,  holding  out  my  hands. 

"Hilloo  !  yur  a-eomin  too,  young  fellur.  Thet's  right  ;  but 
thur  now — lay  still  a  bit — don't  worrit  yurself ;  y'ull  be  stronger 
by  'in  by." 

"  Take  a  sup  o'  this,"  said  the  other,  with  an  air  of  rude  kind 
ness,  at  the  same  time  holding  out  a  small  gourd,  which  I  applied 
to  my  lips.  It  was  aguardiente  of  El  Paso,  better  known  among 
the  mountain-men  as  "Pass-whisky."  The  immediate  effect  of 
this  strong,  but  not  bad  spirit,  was  to  strengthen  my  nerves,  and 
render  me  abler  to  converse. 

"I  see  you  recollects  us,  capt'n,"  said  Garey,  apparently 
pleased  at  the  recognition. 

*'  Well,  old  comrades — well  do  I  remember  you." 

"  We  ain't  forgot  you  neyther.  Rube  an  I  often  talked  about 
ye.  We  many  a  time  wondered  what  bed  becomed  o'  you.  We 
heerd,  of  coorse,  that  you  bed  gone  back  to  the  settlements,  an 


A   QUEER   CONVERSATION.  143 

that  you  bed  come  into  gobs  o'  property,  an  hed  to  change  your 
name  to  git  it " 

"  Darn  the  name  !"  interrupted  Rube.  "  I'd  change  mine 
any  day  for  a  plug  o'  Jeemes  River  bacca  ;  thct  wud  I  sartint." 

"  No,  capt'u,"  continued  the  younger  trapper,  without  heed 
ing  Rube's  interruption,  "  we  hedn't  forgot  you,  neyther  of  us." 

"That  we  hedn't  !"  added  Rube  emphatically  :  "  forgot  ye — • 
forgot  the  young  fellur  as  tuk  ole  Rube  for  a  grizzly  !  He,  he, 
he  I — ho,  ho,  hoo  !  How  Bill  hyur  did  larf  when  I  gin  him  the 
account  o'  that  bisness  in  the  cave.  Bill,  boy,  I  niver  seed  you 
larf  so  in  all  my  life.  Ole  Rube  tuk  for  a  grizzly  1  He,  he,  he  ' 
— ho,  ho,  hoo  1" 

And  the  old  trapper  went  off  into  a  fit  of  laughing  that  occu . 
pied  nearly  a  minute.  At  the  end  of  it,  he  continued  : 

<l  Thet  wur  a  kewrious  bit  o7  dodgin — wa'nt  it,  young  fellur  ? 
You  saved  my  ole  karkidge  thet  time,  an  I  ain't  a-gwine  to  for- 
git  it ;  no,  this  child  ain?t." 

"  I  think  you  have  repaid  me  ;  you  have  rescued  me  from  the 
bear  ?" 

"From  one  bar  p-eehaps  we  did,  but  from  t'other  grizzly  you 
rescooed  yurself ;  an,  young  fellur,  you  must  a  fit  a  putty  con- 
sid'able  bout  afore  the  varmint  knocked  under.  The  way  you  hev 
gin  him  the  bowie  ur  a  caution  to  snakes,  I  reck'n." 

"  What  ?  were  there  two  bears  ?" 

"  Look  thur  1  thur's  a  kupple,  ain't  thur  1" 

The  trapper  pointed  in  the  direction  of  the  fire.  Sure  enough, 
the  carcasses  of  two  bears  lay  upon  the  ground,  both  skinned, 
and  partially  cut  up  I 

"  I  fought  with  only  one.*" 

"  An  thet  wur  enuf  at  a  time,  an  a  leetle  more,  I  reck'n. 
'Tain't  many  as  lives  to  wag  thur  jaws  arter  a  stan-up  tussle  wi' 
a  grizzly.  Wagh  !  how  you  must  have  fit,  to  a  rubbed  out  that 
bar  1" 

"  I  killed  the  bear,  then  ?" 


THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

"  Th»*t  you  sartintly  did,  young  fellur.  When  Bill  an  me  fcra 
01.  Jfiie  groun,  the  bar  wnr  as  dead  as  pickled  pork.  We  thorl 
yur  case  wa'nt  any  better.  Thur  you  lay  a-huggin  the  bar,  an 
the  bar  ^hu.ggin  you,  as  ef  both  on  yur  hed  gone  to  sleep  in  a 
sort  o'  friendly  way,  like  the  babbies  in  the  wood.  But  thur 
war  yur  claret  a  kiverin  the  paraira  for  yurds  round.  Thur 
wa'nt  as  much  blood  in  you  as  wud  a  gin  a  leech  his  breakfist." 

"The  other  bear?" 

"  She  cum  arterwards  out  o'  the  gully.  Bill,  he  wur  gone  to 
look  arter  the  white  hoss  1  wur  sittin  by  you,  jest  hyur,  when 
I  seed  the  varmint's  snout  pokin  up.  I  know'd  it  wur  the  she- 
bar  a  comin  to  see  where  ole  Eph  had  strayed  to.  So  I  tuk  up 
Targuts,  and  plummed  the  critter  in  the  eye,  and  thet  wur  the 
eend  o'  her  trampin. 

"  Now,  lookee  hyur,  young  fellur  1  I  ain't  no  doctur,  ney- 
ther's  Bill,  but  I  knows  enough  about  wownds  to  be  sartint  thet 
you  must  lay  still,  an  stop  talkin.  Yur  mighty  bad  scratched, 
I  tell  ye,  but  yur  not  dangerous,  only  you've  got  no  blood  in 
yur  body,  and  you  must  wait  till  it  gathers  agin.  Take  another 
suck  out  o'  the  gourd.  Thur  now,  come,  Billee  !  leave  'im  alone. 
Le's  go  an  hev  a  fresh  tooth-full  o'  bar-meat." 

And  so  saying,  the  leathery  figure  moved  off  in  the  direction 
of  the  fire,  followed  by  his  younger  companion. 

Although  I  was  anxious  to  have  a  further  explanation  about 
the  other  points  that  puzzled  me — about  the  steed,  the  trappers' 
own  presence,  their  knowledge  of  my  wild  hunt,  and  its  antece 
dents — I  knew  it  would  be  useless  to  question  Old  Rube  any 
further,  after  what  he  had  said  ;  I  was  compelled,  therefore,  to 
follow  his  advice,  and  remain  quiet. 


VOWS   OF    VENGEANCE.  145 


CHAPTER   XXYI. 

VOWS      OF     VENGEANCE. 

i  SOON  fell  asleep  again,  and  this  time  slept  long  and  pro 
foundly.  It  was  after  nightfall,  in  fact,  near  midnight,  when  I 
nwoke.  The  air  had  grown  chilly,  but  I  found  I  had  not  been 
neglected  ;  my  serape  was  wrapped  closely  around  me,  and  with 
a  buffalo-robe,  had  sufficiently  protected  me  from  the  cold  while 
I  slept.  On  awaking,  I  felt  much  better  and  stronger.  I  looked 
around  for  my  companions.  The  fire  had  gone  out — no  doubt 
intentionally  extinguished,  lest  its  glare  amid  the  darkness 
might  attract  the  eye  of  some  roving  Indian.  The  night  was  a 
clear  oue,  though  moonless  ;  but  the  heaven  was  spangled  with 
its  sparkling  worlds,  and  the  starlight  enabled  me  to  make  out 
the  forms  of  the  two  trappers  and  the  group  of  browsing 
horses.  Of  the  former,  one  only  was  asleep  ;  the  other  sat 
upright,  keeping  guard  over  the  camp.  He  was  motionless  as  a 
statue  ;  but  the  small  spark  gleaming  like  a  glowworm  from  the 
ibowl  of  his  tobacco-pipe,  gave  token  of  his  wakefulness.  rfim 
as  the  light  was,  I  could  distinguish  the  upright  form  to  be  that 
of  the  earless  trapper.  It  wab  Garey  who  was  sleeping. 

I  could  have  wished  it  otherwise.  I  was  anxious  to  have 
some  conversation  with  the  younger  of  my  companions  ;  I  was 
longing  for  an  explanation,  and  I  should  have  preferred  address 
ing  myself  to  Garey.  My  anxiety  would  not  allow  me  to  wait, 
and  I  turned  towards  Rube.  He  sat  near  me,  and  I  spoke  in  a 
kw  tone,  so  as  not  to  awake  the  sleeper. 

"  How  came  you  to  find  me  ?" 

"  By  follerin  your  trail." 

7 


146  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

"  Oh,  you  followed  me  then  !     From  the  settlements  ?" 

"  Not  so  fur.  Bill  an  me  wur  camped  in  the  chaparril,  and 
spied  you  a  gallupin  arter  the  white  hoss,  as  ef  all  the  devils  wur 
arter  you.  I  koowed  yur  at  a  glimp  ;  so  d'd  Bill.  Sez  I  :  '  Bill, 
thet  ur  the  young  fellur  as  tuk  me -for  a  grizzly  up  thur  in  the 
mountains,'  an  the  reckolecshun  o'  the  sark'rrstance  sot  me  a 
larfin  till  my  ole  ribs  ached.  *  It  ur  the  same,1'  sez  Bill.  JLr* 
jest  then,  we  met  a  Mexikir.  who  hed  been  yur  guide,  gallup;a 
about  in  search  o'  you.  He  gin  us  a  storv  'bout  some  gurl  ;l:et 
hed  sent  you  to  catch  the  white  hoss  ;  ^ome  saynyora  7*]:;h  a 
dodrotted  long  name.  '  Durn  the  weemcn  V  sez  I  to  Bill 
Didn't  I,  Bill '(» 

To  this  interesting  interrogatory,  Garey,  who  was  t)ut  half 
asleep,  gave  an  assenting-  grunt. 

"  Wall,"  continued  Rube,  "  seein  thur  wur  a  pettycoat  in  the 
case,  I  sez  to  Bill,  sez  I  :  'Thet  young  fellur  ain't  a-gwite  to 
pull  up  till  eyther  he  grups  the  hoss,  or  the  hoss  gits  clur  off.* 
Now,  I  knowd  you  wur  well  mounted,  but  I  knowd  you  wur  arter 
the  fasted  crittex  on  all  these  parairas ;  so  I  sez  to  Bill,  sc~  I  ; 
'  Billee,  thur  bouu  for  a  long  gallup/  Sez  Bill  :  ( Thet  •  .r  sar- 
tin.'  Wai  !  Bill  an  me  tuk  the  idee  in  our  heads,  +he;  fou 
mout  git  lost,  for  we  seed  the  white  hoss  -:vur  a  rnaKin  for  the 
big  paraira.  It  ain't  the  biggest  paraira  i:-.  •  rsashun,  but  it  ur 
one  of  the  wust  to  git  strayed  on.  Yur  greenhorns  wur  all  g  jne 
back,  so  Bill  an  tnecatched  up  our  critters,  an  as  soon  as  »ve  kud 
saddle  'em  put  arter  you.  W'uen  we  kumd  out  in  the  paraira, 
we  seed  no  signs  o'  you,  'ceptin  yur  trail.  Thet  we  follered  up  : 
but  it  wur  night  long  afore  we  got  half  way  hyur,  an  wur 
obleeged  to  halt  till  sunup. 

"  In  the  mornin7,  the  trail  wur  nurly  blind,  on  account  o- 
the  rain  ;  an  it  tuk  us  a  good  spell  afore  we  reached 
the  gully.  '  Thur,'  sez  Bill,  *  the  hoss  hes  jumped  in  an  hyur's 
the  trail  o'  the  young  feller  leadin  down  the  bank.'  Wai,  we 
wur  jest  turniu'  to  go  down,  when  we  seed  yur  own  hoss  a  good 


VOWS    OF    VENGEANCE.  14:7 

ways  off  on  the  paraira,  'ithout  saddle  or  bridle.  We  rid 
straight  for  him,  an  when  we  got  closter,  we  seed  soraethin'  on 
the  groun'  right  under  the  boss's  nose.  Thet  somethin  turned 
out  to  be  yourself  an  the  grizzly,  lyin  in  grups,  as  quiet  as  a 
kupple  o'  '  sleepin"  possums.  Yur  hoss  wur  a  squealin'  like 
a  bag  o'  wild-cats,  an  at  fust  Bill  an  me  thort  you  bed  gone 
under.  But  upon  a  closter  view,  we  seed  you  wur  only  a  faintin' 
while  the  bar  wur  as  a  dead  as  buck.  Of  coorse  we  sot  about 
doctorin'  you  to  fotch  you  roun'  again." 

"  But  the  steed  ?  the  white  steed  ?" 

"  Bill  hyur  grupped  him  in  the  gully.  A  leetle  further  down 
it's  stopped  up  wi'  big  rocks.  We  knowd  that,  for  we'd  been 
hyer  afore  ;  we  knowed  the  hoss  kudn't  a  got  over  the  rocks,  an 
Bill  went  arter  an  foun'  him,  on  a  ledge  whur  he  bed  clorab  out  o' 
reach  o'  the  flood ;  and  then  he  lazooed  the  critter,  and  fetched 
'iin  up  hyur.  Now,  young  fellur,  you  hev  the  hul  story." 

"  An  the  hoss,"  added  Garey,  rising  from  his  recumbent  posi 
tion,  "he's  yourn,  capt'n.  Ef  you  hadn't  rid  him  down,  1 
couldn't  a  roped  him  so  easy.  He's  yourn,  ef  yu'll  accept  him.'* 

"  Thanks,  thanks  !  not  for  the  gift  alone,  but  I  may  thank 
you  for  my  life.  But  for  you,  I  might  never  have  left  the  spot. 
Thanks  1  old  comrades,  thanks  !" 

Every  point  was  now  cleared  up.  There  was  m  rstery  no 
longer,  though,  from  an  expression  which  Garey  had  dropped, 
I  still  desired  a  word  with  him  in  private. 

On  further  inquiry,  I  learned  that  the  trappers  weie  on  their 
way  to  take  part  in  the  campaign.  Some  barbarous  treatment 
they  had  experienced  from  Mexican  soldiers  at  a  frontier  post, 
had  rendered  both  of  them  inveterate  foes  to  Mexico  ;  and  Rube 
declared  he  would  never  be  contented  until  he  had  "  plugged  a 
score  of  the  yellur-hided  vamints."  The  breaking  out  of  the 
war  gave  them  the  opportunity  they  desired,  and  th.jy  were  now 
on  their  way,  from  a  distant  part  of  prairie-land  tc  take  a  hand 
in  it. 


J48  THE    WAK-TKAIL. 

The  vehemence  of  their  hostility  towards  the  Mexicans  some 
what  surprised  me — as  I  knew  it  was  a  recent  feeling  with  them 
— and  I  inquired  more  particularly  into  the  nature  of  the  ill- 
treatment  they  had  received.  They  answered  me  by  giving  a 
detailed  account  of  the  affair.  It  had  occurred  at  one  of  the 
Mexican  frontier  towns,  where,  upon  a  slight  pretext,  the  trap 
pers  had  been  arrested  and  flogged,  by  order  of  the  command 
ing  officer  of  the  post. 

"  Yes-s  !"  said  Rube,  the  words  hissing  angrily  through  his 
teeth  ;  "  yes-s,  flogged  ! — a  mountain-man  flogged  by  a  cussed 
monkey  of  a  Mexikin  !  Ne'er  a  mind  !  ne'er  a  mind  !  By  the 
'tarnal ! — an  when  I  say  thet,  I  swar  it — this  nigger  don't  leave 
Mexiko  till  he  hes  rubbed  out  a  soger  for  every  lash  they  gin 
him — an  that's  twenty  I" 

"  Hyur's  another,  old  hoss  !"  cried  Garey,  with  equal  ear 
nestness  of  manner — "  hyur's  another  that  swars  the  same 
oath  !" 

"  Yes,  Billee,  boy  1  I  guess  we'll  count  some  in  a  skrimmage. 
Thur's  two  aready  !  lookee  thur,  young  fellur  !" 

As  Rube  said  this,  he  held  his  rifle  close  to  my  eyes,  pointing 
with  his  finger  to  a  particular  part  of  the  stock.  I  saw  two  small ' 
notches  freshly  cut  in  the  wood.  I  knew  well  enough  what  these 
notches  meant;  they  were  a  registry  of  the  deaths  of  two  Mexicans, 
who  had  fallen  by  the  hand  or  bullet  of  the  trapper.  They  had 
not  been  the  only  victims  of  that  unerring  and  deadly  weapon. 
On  the  same  piece  of  wood-work  I  could  see  long  rows  of  similar 
souvenirs,  apart  from  each  others,  only  differing  a  little  in  shape. 
I  knew  something  of  the  signification  of  these  horrible  hiero 
glyphics  ;  I  knew  they  were  the  history  of  a  life  fearfully  spent 
— a  life  of  red  realities. 

The  sight  was  far  from  pleasant.  I  turned  mv  eyes  away, 
and  remained  silent. 

"  Mark  me,  young  fellur  P  continued  Rube,  who  noticed  that 
I  was  not  gratified  by  the  inspection  ;  "  don't  mistake  Bill 


VOWS    OF   VENGEANCE.  149 

Garey  an  me  for  wild  beests  ;  we  ain't  thet  quite  :  we've  been 
mighty  riled,  I  reck'n  ;  but  fr  all  thet,' we  ain't  a-gwine  to  take 
revenge  on  weemen  an  childer,  as  Injuns  do.  No — wecmen  an 
childer  don't  count,  nor  men  neylher,  unless  thur  sogers.  We've 
no  spite  agin  the  poor  slaves  o'  Mexiko.  They  never  did  me 
nor  Bill  harm  We've  been  on  one  skurry,  along  wi'  the 
Yutaws,  down  to  the  Del  Nort  settlements.  Thur's  whur  I 
made  them  two  nicks  ;  but  neyther  Bill  or  me  laid  a  finger  on 
the  weemiu  an  childer.  It  wur  bekase  the  Injuns  did,  thet  we 
left  'em.  We're  jest  cum  from  thur.  We  want  fair  fight  among 
Christyun  whites  ;  thet's  why  we're  hyur.  Now,  young  feller  1" 

I  was  glad  to  hear  Rube  talk  in  this  manner,  and  I  so  signi 
fied  to  him.     Indianised  as  the  old  trapper  was,  with  all  his 
savageness,  all  his  reckless  indifference  to  ordinary  emotions,  I 
knew  there  was  still  a  touch  of  humanity  in  his  breast.     Indeed 
on  moro   than  one  occasion,  I  had  witnessed  singular  displays 
of  fine  feeling  on  the  part  of  Rube.     Circumstanced  as  he  was, 
he  is  not  to  be  judged  by  the  laws  of  civilized  life. 

u  Your  intention,  then,  is  to  join  some  corps  of  rangers,  is  it 
not  ?"  I  asked,  after  a  pause. 

11 1  shed  like  it,"  replied  Garey  :  "  I  shed  like  to  join  your 
company,  capt'n  ;  but  Rube  hyur  won't  consent  to  it." 

"No  !';  exclaimed  the  other  with  emphasis;  "  I'll  jine  no 
kumpny.  This  niggur  fights  on  his  own  hook.  Yur  see,  young 
fellur,  I  hev  been  all  my  life  a  free  mountainee-man,  an  don't 
understan  sogerin,  no  how.  I  mout  make  some  mistake,  or  I 
moutn't  like  some  o'  the  regilashuns  ;  thurfor  I  prefers  fightin 
arter  my  own  fashun.  Bill  an  me  kin  take  care  o'  ourselves.  I 
reck'n.  Kin  we,  Bill  ?-r-eh,  boyee  ?" 

''  I  guess  so,  old  boss,"  replied  Garey,  mildly  ;  but  for  all 
that,  Rube,  I  think  it  would  be  better  to  go  at  it  in  a  regular 
way — particularly  as  the  capt'n  hyur  would  make  the  sogerin 
part  as  easy  as  possible.  Wudn't  yur,  capt'n  ?" 

II  The  discipline  of  my  corps  is   not  very  severe.     We  art 


150  THE   WAE-TKAIL. 

Rangers,  and  our  duties  are  different  from  those  of  regular  sol 
diers  " 

"  It  ur  no  use,"  interrupted  Ilube  ;  "  I  must  fight  as  I've 
allers  fit,  free  to  kurn  an  free  to  go  whar  I  please.  I  won't  bind 
myself.  I  moutn't  like  it,  an  mout  desait.'' 

"But  by  binding  yourself."  suggested  I,  "you  draw  pay  an 
rations ;  whereas  " 

"  Darn  pay  an  rashuns  !"  exclaimed  the  old  trapper,  striking 
the  butt  of  his  rifle  upon  the  prairie.  "  Darn  pay  an  rashuus  1 
Young  feller,  I  fights  fur  revenge  /" 

This  was  said  in  an  energetic  and  conclusive  manner,  and  I 
urged  my  advice  no  further. 

"Look  hyur,  cap  !"  continued  the  speaker,  in  a  more  subdued 
tone.  "  Though  I  ain't  a-gwine  to  jine  yur  fellurs,  yet  thur  ur 
a  favor  I  wud  axe  from  yur,  an  thet  is,  to  let  me  an  Bill  keep 
by  you,  or  foller  whuriver  you  lead.  I  don't  want  to  spunge  for 
rashuus ;  we'll  git  thet,  ef  thur's  a  head  o'  game  in  Mexiko,  an 
ef  thur  ain't,  why  we  kin  eat  a  Mexikan !  Can't  we,  Bill  ? — eh, 
boyee  ?" 

Garey  knew  this  was  one  of  Rube's  jokes,  and  laughingly 
assented  ;  adding  at  the  same  time,  that  he  would  prefer  eating 
any  other  "  sort  o'  a  varmint." 

"  Ne'er  a  mind  !"  continued  Rube  ;  "  we  ain't  a-gwine  to 
starve.  So,  young  fellur,  ef  you  agrees  to  our  goin  on  them 
terms  yu'll  heve  a  kupple  o'  rifles  near  you,  thet  won't  miss  fire 
— they  won't." 

"  Enough  !  You  shall  go  and  come  as  you  please.  I  shall 
be  glad  to  have  you  near  me,  without  binding  you  to  any  term 
of  service." 

"  Hooray  !  thet's  the  sort  for  us  I  Kum,  Billee  ! — gie's 
ar other  suck  out  o'  yur  gourd.  Hyur's  success  to  the  Stars  and 
S-  -ipes  I  Hooray  for  Texas  !" 


A   WEED-PRAIRIE   ON   FIRE.  151 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

A   "WEED"-PRAIRIE    ON    FIRE. 

MY  recovery  was  rapid.  My  wounds,  though  deep,  were  not 
iaugerous  ;  they  were  only  flesh-wounds,  and  closed  rapidly 
under  the  cauterising  influence  of  the  kchuguilla.  Rude  as  my 
doctors  were,  ip.  the  matter  of  such  a  malady,  I  could  not  have 
fallen  into  better  hands.  Both,  during  their  lives  of  accident 
and  exposure,  had  ample  practice  in  the  healing  art  ;  and  I 
would  have  trusted  either,  in  the  curing  of  a  rattlesnake's  bite, 
or  the  tear  of  a  grizzly  bear's  claw,  in  preference  to  the  most 
accomplished  surgeon.  Old  Rube,  in  particular,  thoroughly 
understood  the  simple  pharmacopeia  of  the  prairies  ;  and  his 
application  to  my  wounds  of  the  sap  of  the  pita  plant,  obtained 
among  the  rocks  of  the  ravine,  bespoke  his  skill.  This  plant,  a 
bromelia,  is  of  the  same  genus  as  the  Agave  Americana,  and  by 
travellers  often  confounded  with  the  latter,  though  quite  a  dis 
tinct  plant  from  the  maguey  of  cultivation.  It  grows  in  most 
parts  of  Mexico  and  South  America,  extending  as  far  north  as 
the  latitude  of  30°,  and  even  further.  There  is  no  spot  too  arid 
or  barren  to  give  support  to  it.  It  is  a  true  desert  plant ;  and 
even  on  the  naked  rock,  its  curved  and  thorny  blades  may  be 
seen  radiating  on  all  sides  from  the  tall  flower-stalk,  that  shoots 
upward  like  a  signal-staff,  to  the  height  of  twenty  feet.  As 
already  observed,  its  uses  are  manifold  :  the  fibre  of  its  leaves 
can  be  manufactured  into  thread,  cordage,  and  cloth  ;  fences  are 
constructed  of  the  growing  plant,  and  thatch  of  the  blades  when 
cut  ;  its  sap,  distilled,  furnishes  the  fiery  but  not  unwholesome 
raezcal  ;  and  the  large  egg-shaped  core  or  stem  is  eaten  for  food 


152  THE    WAK-TRAIL. 

Tribes  of  Indians — Lipans,  Comanches,  and  Apaches — use  it  ex 
tensively  as  an  article  of  diet.  One  branch  of  the  great  Apache" 
nation  are  distinguished  as  '*  Mezcaleros"  (eaters  of  the  mezcal- 
plant.)  They  bake  it  in  ground-ovens  of  heated  stones,  along 
with  the  flesh  of  the  wild  horse.  It  is  firm  when  cooked,  with  a 
translucent  appearance  like  candied  fruits.  I  have  eaten  it ;  it 
is  palatable — I  might  say  delicious.  The  mastication  of  it  is 
accompanied  by  a  prickling  sensation  upon  the  tongue,  singular 
to  one  unaccustomed  to  it.  It  is  a  gift  of  nature  to  the  desert 
regions,  where  it  grows  in  greatest  luxuriance,  and  where  it 
serves  the  same  purpose  in  the  economy  of  the  savage  natives  as 
the  ixias,  mesembryantkemu'ms,  and  zamias  (the  Caffre  bread,)  upon 
the  arid  karoos  of  Southern  Africa. 

One  of  the  most  esteemed  qualities  of  this  brornelia  is  the  cau 
terizing  property  of  its  juice,  well  known  to  the  natives  of  the 
Mexican  table-land,  and  to  the  Peruvians,  where  several  species 
are  found  of  like  virtues.  It  will  cause  ordinary  wounds  to  cica 
trise  in  a  few  hours,  and  even  "  ugly  gashes"  will  yield  to  it  te 
time. 

My  companions  had  full  knowledge  of  its  effects,  and  having 
extracted  the  sap  from  its  large  succulent  leaves,  and  boiled  it 
to  the  consistency  of  honey,  they  applied  it  to  my  wounds.  This 
operation  they  from  time  to  time  repeated,  and  the  scratches 
were  healed  in  a  period  marvellously  short.  My  strength,  too, 
was  soon  restored.  Garey  with  his  gun  catered  for  the  cuisine, 
and  the  ruffed  grouse,  the  prairie  partridge,  and  roasted  rihs  of 
fresh  venison,  were  dainties  even  to  an  invalid. 

In  three  days  I  was  strong  enough  to  mount  ;  and  bidding 
adieu  to  our  camping-ground,  we  set  forth,  taking  with  us  our 
beautiful  captive.  He  was  still  as  wild  as  a  deer  ;  but  we 
adopted  precautions  to  prevent  him  from  getting  off.  The  trap 
pers  led  him  between  them,  secured  to  the  saddles  of  both  by  a 
lazo. 

We  did  not  return  in  the  direction  of  our  old  trail  ;  my  com- 


A   WEED-PKAIRIE   ON   FIRE.  15S 

panions  knew  a  shorter  route,  at  least  one  upon  which  we  should 
sooner  reach  water,  and  that  is  the  most  important  consideration 
on  a  prairie  journey.  We  headed  in  a  more  westerly  direction  ; 
in  which,  by  keeping  in  a  straight  line,  we  should  strike  the  Rio 
Grande  some  distance  above  the  rancheria. 

The  sky  was  leaden-grey,  the  sun  not  being  visible,  and  with 
no  guide  in  the  heavens,  we  knew  that  we  might  easily  diverge 
from  a  direct  course.  To  provide  against  this,  my  companions 
had  recourse  to  a  compass  of  their  own  invention.  On  taking 
our  departure  from  the  carnp,  a  sapling  was  stuck  into  the 
ground,  and  upon  the  top  of  this  was  adjusted  a  piece  of  bear's- 
skin,  which,  with  the  long  hair  upon  it,  could  be  distinguished  at 
the  distance  of  a  mile  or  more.  The  direction  having  been  de 
termined  upon,  another  wand,  similarly  garnished  with  a  tuft  of 
the  bear's-skin,  was  set  up  several  hundred  yards  distant  from 
the  first. 

Turning  our  backs  upon  these  signal-posts,  we  rode  off  with 
perfect  confidence,  glancing  back  at  intervals  to  make  sure  we 
were  keeping  the  track.  So  long  as  they  remained  in  sight,  and 
aligned  with  each  other,  we  could  not  otherwise  than  travel  in  a 
straight  path.  It  was  an  ingenious  contrivance,  but  it  was  not 
the  first  time  I  had  been  witness  to  the  "  instincts  "  of  my  trap 
per-friends,  and  therefore  I  was  not  astonished* 

When   the  black  tufts  were  well-nigh  hidden  from   view,  a 

similar  pair — the  materials  for  which  had  been  brought  along — 

were  erected,  and  these  insured  our  direction  for  another  stretch 

,  of  a  mile ;  then  fresh  saplings  were  planted  ;  and  so  on,  till  we 

had  passed  over  some  six  miles  of  the  plain. 

We  now  came  in  sight  of  timber  right  ahead  of  us,  and  appa 
rently  about  five  miles  distant.  Towards  this  we  directed  our 
course. 

We  reached  the  timber  about  noon,  and  found  it  to  consist  o 
black-jack  and  post-oak  groves,  with  mezquite  and  wild-china 

7* 


154  THE   WAK-TEAIL. 

trees  interspersed,  and  here  and  there  some  taller  trees  of  tho 
honey  locust  (Gleditschia  triacanthos). 

It  was  not  a  close  forest,  but  a  succession  of  groves,  with 
openings  between — avenues  and  grassy  glades.  There  were 
many  pleasant  spots,  and,  faint  with  the  ride,  I  would  fain  have 
chosen  one  of  them  for  a  resting-place;  but  there  was  no  water, 
and  without  water  we  could  not  halt.  A  short  distance  further, 
and  we  should  reach  a  stream — a  small  arroyo,  an  affluent  of 
the  Rio  Grande.  So  promised  my  companions,  and  we  rode 
onward. 

After  passing  a  mile  or  so  through  the  timber-openings,  we 
came  out  on  the  edge  of  a  prairie  of  considerable  extent.  It  was 
full  three  miles  in  diameter,  and  differed  altogether  from  the 
plain  we  had  left  behind  us.  It  was  of  the  kind  known  in 
hunter  phraseology  as  a  "  weed-prairie,"  that  is,  instead  ot 
having  a  grassy  turf,  its  surface  was  covered  with  a  thick  growth 
of  flowering-plants,  as  helianthus,  malcas,  althtas,  hibiscus,  and 
other  tall  annuals  standing  side  by  side,  and  frequently  laced 
together  by  wild-pea  vines  and  various  species  of  convolvulus. 
Such  a  flower-prairie  was  the  one  now  before  us,  but  not  a 
flower  was  in  sight;  they  had  all  bloomed,  faded,  and  fallen, 
perhaps,  unseen  by  human  eye,  and  the  withered  stalks,  burned 
by  a  hot  sun,  looked  brown  and  forbidding.  They  cracked  and 
broke  at  the  slightest  touch,  shelling  their  seed-pods  like  rain 
upon  the  loose  earth. 

Instead  of  striking  across  this  prairie,  we  skirted  around  its 
edge;  and,  at  no  great  distance,  arrived  on  the  banks  of  the 
arroyo  which  ran  along  one  side. 

We  had  made  but  a  short  march  ;  but  my  companions,  fearful 
that  a  longer  ride  might  bring  on  fever,  proposed  to  encamp  there 
for  the  night,  and  finish  our  journey  on  the  following  day. 
Though  I  felt  strong  enough  to  have  gone  further,  I  made  210 
objection  to  the  proposal;  and  our  horses  were  at  once  unsad 
dled  and  picketed  near  the  banks  of  the  arroyo. 


A    WEED-PR  AIKIE    ON   FIKE.  155 

The  stream  ran  through  a  little  bottom-valley  covered  with  a 
sward  of  grass,  and  upon  this  we  staked  our  steeds;  but  a  bet 
ter  place  offered  for  our  camp  upon  the  higher  ground  ;  and  we 
chose  a  spot  under  the  shade  of  a  large  locust-tree,  upon  the 
edge  of  the  great  wilderness  of  weeds.  To  this  place  we  cur-' 
ried  our  saddles,  bridles,  and  blankets,  and  having  collected  a 
quantity  of  dead  branches,  kindled  our  camp-fire.  We  had 
already  quenched  our  thirst  at  the  stream;  but,  although  we 
were  all  three  hungry  enough,  the  dried  flesh  of  the  grizzly  beai 
proved  but  a  poor  repast.  The  rivulet  looked  promising  for 
fish.  Garey  carried  both  hooks  and  line  in  his  "  possible  sack," 
and  I  proposed  the  angle. 

The  young  trapper  soon  baited  his  hooks  ;  and  he  and  I, 
repairing  to  the  stream,  cast  our  lines,  sat  down,  and  waited  for 
a  nibble. 

Fishing  was  not  to  Rube's  taste.  For  a  few  minutes  he  stood 
watching  us,  but  evidently  with  little  interest,  either  in  the  sport 
or  what  it  might  produce.  Rube  was  riot  a  fish-eater. 

"  Durn  yur  fish  1"  exclaimed  he  at  length  ;  "  I'd  ruther  hev  a 
hunk  o'  deer-meat  than  all  the  fish  in  Texas.  I'll  jest  see  ef  I 
kin  scare  up  something  the  place  looks  likefy  for  deer — 
it  do." 

So  saying,  the  old  trapper  shouldered  his  long  rifle,  and  stalk 
ing  away,  up  the  bank,  was  soon  out  of  sight. 

Garey  and  I  continued  bobbing  with  but  indifferent  success, 
We  had  succeeded  in  drawing  out  a  couple  of  cat-fish,  not  the 
most  palatable  of  the  finny  tribe,  when  the  crack  of  Rube's  rifle 
sounded  in  our  ears.  It  seemed  to  come  from  the  weed- 
prairie,  and  we  both  ran  up  on  the  high  bank  to  ascertain  what 
success  had  attended  the  shot.  Sure  enough,  Rube  was  out  iu 
the  prairie,  nearly  half  a  mile  distant  from  the  camp.  His 
head  and  shoulders  were  just  visible  above  the  tall  stalks  of  the 
helianthus;  and  we  could  see,  by  his  stooping  at  intervals,  that 
he  was  bending  over  some  game  he  had  killed,  skinning  or  cut 


156  THE   WAR-TEAIL. 

ting  it  up.  The  game  we  could  not  see,  on  account  of  the 
interposed  stalks  of  the  weeds 

"  A  deer,  I  reck'n,"  remarked  Garey.  "  Buffler  don't  often 
o'  late  years  stray  so  far  to  the  suthert,  though  I've  killed  some 
on  the  Grande,  higher  up." 

Without  other  remark  passing  between  us,  we  descended  to 
the  arroyo,  and  continued  our  fishing.  We  took  it  for  granted 
that  Rube  did  not  require  any  aid,  or  he  would  have  signalled 
to  us.  He  would  soon  return  with  his  game  to  the  camp. 

We  had  just  discovered  that  silver-fish  (a  species  of  hyodon) 
were  plentiful  in  the  stream,  and  this  attracted  us  back.  We 
were  desirous  of  taking  some  of  them  for  our  dinner,  knowing 
them  to  be  excellent  eating,  and  far  superior  to  the  despised 
"cat." 

Having  changed  our  bait  for  some  small  pieces  of  gold-lace, 
which  my  uniform  furnished,  we  succeeded  in  pulling  several  of 
these  beautiful  creatures  out  of  the  water;  and  were  congra 
tulating  one  another  upon  the  delicious  broil  we  should  have, 
when  our  conversation  was  suddenly  interrupted  by  a  crackling 
noise,  that  caused  both  of  us  to  turn  our  faces  towards  the 
prairie.  The  sight  that  met  our  eyes  prompted  us  to  spring 
simultaneously  to  our  feet.  Our  horses  already  reared  upon 
their  lazoes,  neighing  with  affright,  and  the  wild  screa.ms  of 
Rube's  mustang  mare  were  loud  and  continuous.  There  was  no 
mystery  about  the  cause;  that  was  obvious  at  a  glance.  The 
wind  had  blown  some  sparks  among  the  dry  flower-stalks.  The 
prairie  was  on  fire! 

Though  startled  at  the  first  sight  of  the  conflagration,  for  our 
selves  we  had  nothing  to  fear.  The  bottom  on  which  we  stood 
was  a  sward  of  short  buffalo-grass;  it  was  not  likely  to  catch 
fire,  and  even  if  it  did,  we  could  easily  escape  from  it.  There  is 
not  much  danger  in  a  burning  prairie  where  the  grass  is  light 
and  short ;  one  can  dash  through  the  line  of  flame  with  no  further 
injury  than  the  ^singeing  of  his  hair,  or  a  little  suffocation  from 


A    WEED-PRAIEIE    ON    FIRE.  157 

smoke;  but  upon  a  plain  covered  with  rank  and  thick  vegeta 
tion,  the  case  is  very  different.  We  therefore  felt  no  apprehen 
sion  for  ourselves,  but  we  did  for  our  companion;  his  situation 
filled  us  with  alarm. 

Was  he  still  where  we  had  last  seen  him  ?  This  was  the  first 
question  we  asked  one  another.  If  so,  then  his  peril  was  great 
indeed  ;  escape  would  be  almost-  hopeless!  We  had  observed 
him  a  full  half  mile  out  among  the  weeds.  He  was  on  foot  too. 
To  have  attempted  a  retreat  towards  the  opposite  side  of  the 
prairie  would  have  been  folly:  it  was  three  miles  off.  Even  on 
horseback,  the  flames  would  have  overtaken  him!  Mounted,  or 
on  foot,  he  could  not  have  got  out  of  the  way  through  those  tall 
stalks — laced  as  they  were  by  pea-vines  and  other  trailing  plants 
— whose  tough  tangle  would  have  hindered  the  progress  of  the 
strongest  horse  1 

To  have  returned  to  the  near  side  would  be  his  only  chance; 
but  that  would  be  in  the  very  face  of  the  fire,  and,  unless  he 
had  started  long  before  the  flames  broke  out,  it  was  evident 
that  his  retreat  in  that  direction  would  be  cut  off.  As  already 
stated,  the  weeds  were  as  dry  as  tinder;  and  the  flames,  impel 
led  by  gusts  of  wind,  at  intervals  shot  out  their  red  tongues, 
licking  up  the  withered  stalks,  coiling  like  serpents  around  them, 
and  consuming  them  almost  instantaneously. 

Filled  with  forebodings,  my  companion  and  I  rushed  in  the 
direction  of  the  prairie. 

When  first  noticed  by  us,  the  fire  had  extended  but  a  few 
yards  on  each  side  of  the  locust-tree  we  had  chosen  for  our 
camp.  We  were  not  opposite  this  point  at  the  moment,  having 
gone  a  little  way  down  the  arroyo;  we  ran,  therefore,  not 
towards  the  camp,  but  for  the  nearest  point  of  high  ground,  in 
order  to  discover  the  situation  of  our  friend.  On  reaching  tho 
high  ground,  about  two  hundred  yards  from  the  locust,  we  saw, 
to  our  astonishment  that  the  fire  had  already  spread,  and  was 
now  burning  forward  to  the  spot  where  we  had  climbed  up'  We 


158  THE    WAK-TKAJL. 

had  only  a  moment  to  glance  outward,  when  the  conflagration, 
hissing  and  crackling  as  it  passed,  rolled  in  front  of  us,  and  with 
its  wall  of  flame  shut  off  our  view  of  the  prairie. 

But.  that  glance  had  shown  us  all,  and  filled  our  hearts  with 
sorrow  and  dismay;  it  revealed  the  situation  of  the  trapper — no 
longer  a  situation  of  peril,  but,  as  we  supposed,  of  certain  death! 
He  was  still  in  the  place  where  we  had  last  seen  him;  he  had 
evidently  made  no  attempt  to  escape  from  it.  Perhaps  the 
knowledge  that  such  an  attempt  must  have  failed,  had  hindered 
him  from  making  it.  The  reflection  that  he  might  as  well  die 
where  he  stood,  as  be  licked  up  by  the  flames  in  the  act  of  flee 
ing  from  them,  had  bound  him  to  the  spot! 

Oh!  it  was  a  dread  sight  to  see  that  old  man,  hardened  sinner 
that  he  was,  about  to  be  snatched  into  eternity  !  I  remember 
his  wild  look,  as  the  red  flame,  rolling  between  us,  shut  him 
from  our  sight!  We  had  seen  him  but  for  a  single  instant:  his 
head  and  shoulders  were  alone  visible  above  the  tall  weeds.  He 
made  no  sign  either  with  voice  or  arm;  but  I  fancied  that  even 
at  that  distance  I  could  read  his  glance  of  despair. 

Was  there  no  hope  ?  Could  no  exertion  be  made  to  rescue 
him?  Could  he  do  nothing  for  himself?  Was  there  no  chance 
of  his  being  able  to  clear  a  circle  round  him,  and  burn  off  a 
space  before  the  line  of  fire  could  come  up?  Such  a  ruse  has  often 
availed,  but  no — never  in  such  ground  as  that!  The  weeds 
were  too  thick  and  tall — it  could  not  be  done — Garey  said  it 
could  not  be  done. 

There  Tas  no  hope,  then.     The.  trapper  was  lost ! 


RUBE    BOASTED    ALIVE.  159 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

RUBE      ROASTED      ALIVE.. 

DOOMED  beyond  doubt — doomed  to  quick,  awful,  and  certain 
death  was  ihe  earless  trapper.  In  five  minutes  more  be  must 
perish.  The  wall  of  flame,  moving  faster  than  charging  cavalry, 
would  soon  envelop  him,  and  surer  than  the  carbine's  volley  or 
the  keen  sabre-cut  was  the  death  borne  forward  by  that  hissing, 
crackling  cohort  of  fire.  Here  and  there,  tall  jets,  shooting  sud 
denly  upward,  stalked  far  in  advance  of  the  main  line — fiery 
giants,  with  red  arms  stretched  forth,  as  if  eager  to  grasp  their 
victim.  Already  their  hot  breath  was  upon  him  ;  another  min 
ute,  and  he  must  perish  ! 

In  a  sort  of  stupor  we  stood,  Garey  and  I,  watching  the  ad 
vance  of  the  flames.  Neither  of  us  uttered  a  word  :  painful  emo 
tions  prevented  speech.  Both  our  hearts  were  beating  audibly. 
Mine  was  bitterly  wrung  ;  but  I  knew  that  of  my  companion  was 
enduring  the  very  acme  of  anguish.  I  glanced  upward  to  his 
face  :  his  eye  was  fixed,  and  looked  steadfastly  in  one  direction 
— as  though  it  would  pierce  the  sheet  of  flame,  that  rolled  further 
and  further  from  where  we  stood,  and  nearer  to  the  fatal  spot. 
The  expression  of  that  eye  was  fearful  to  behold  ;  it  was  a  look 
of  concentrated  agony.  A  single  tear  had  escaped  from  it,  and 
was  rolling  down  the  rude  weather-bronzed  cheek,  little  used  to 
such  bedewing.  The  broad  chest  was  heaving  in  short  quick 
spasm,  and  it  was  evident  the  man  was  struggling  with  hii 
breath.  He  was  listening  through  all  this  intensity  of  gaze — 
listening  for  the  death-shriek  of  his  old  comrade — his  bosom* 
friend  1 


160  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

Not  long  was  the  suspense  ;  though  there  was  no  shriek,  no 
cry  of  human  voice,  to  indicate  the  crisis.  If  any  arose,  it  was 
not  heard  by  us.  It  could  not  have  been  ;  it  would  have  been 
drowned  amid  the  roar  of  the  flames,  and  the  crackling  of  the 
hollow  culms,  whose  pent-up  gases,  set  free  by  the  fire,  sounded 
like  the  continuous  rolling  of  musketry.  No  death-cry  fell  upoa 
our  ears ;  but,  for  all  that,  we  were  satisfied  that  the  drama  bad 
reached  its  denouement ;  the  unfortunate  trapper  was  roasted 
alive  ! 

Already  the  flames  had  passed  over  the  spot  where  we  had 
last  seen  him — far  beyond — leaving  the  ground  charred  and 
black  behind  them.  Though  the  smoke  hindered  our  view  of  the 
plain,  we  knew  that  the  climax  had  passed  :  the  hapless  victim 
had  succumbed  ;  and  it  remained  only  to  look  for  his  bones 
among  the  smouldering  ashes. 

Up  to  this  moment,  Garey  had  stood  in  a  fixed  attitude,  silent 
and  rigid  as  a  statue.  It  was  not  hope  that  had  held  him  thus 
spell-bound  ;  he  had  entertained  no  such  feeling  from  the  first : 
it  was  rather  a  paralysis  produced  by  despair.  Now  that  the 
crisis  was  over,  and  he  felt  certain  that  his  comrade  had  perished, 
his  muscles,  so  long  held  in  tension,  suddenly  relaxed — his  arms 
fell  loosely  to  his  sides — the  tears  chased  each  other  over  his 
cheeks — his  head  reclined  forward,  and  in  a  hoarse,  husky  roice 
he  exclaimed  : 

"  O  !  God  o'  mercy,  he's  rubbed  out,  rubbed  out !  We've 
seed  the  last  o'  poor  Old  Rube  !" 

My  sorrow,  though  perhaps  not  so  keen  as  that  of  my  com 
panion,  was  nevertheless  sufficiently  painful.  I  knew  the  earless 
trapper  well — had  been  his  associate  under  strange  circumstances 
— amid  scenes  of  danger  that  draw  men's  hearts  more  closely  to 
gether  than  any  phrases  of  flattery  or  compliment.  More  than 
once  had  I  seen  him  triod  in  the  hour  of  peril  ;  and  I  knew  that, 
notwithstanding  the  wildness  and  eccentricity  of  his  character — 
of  his  crimes,  I  might  add — his  heart,  ill  directed  by  early  edu 


KUBE   BOASTED   ALIVE.  16  J 

cation,  ill  guided  by  after-association,  was  still  rife  with  many 
virtues.  Many  proofs  of  this  could  I  recall  ;  aud  I  confess  that 
a  feeling  akin  to  friendship  had  grown  up  between  myself  and 
this  singular  man. 

Between  Garey  and  Rube  the  ties  were  still  stronger.  Long 
and  inseparable  companionship — years  of  participation  in  a  life 
of  hardships  and  perils — like  thoughts  and  habitudes — though 
perhaps  dispositions,  age,  and  characters  were  a  good  deal  un 
like — all  had  combined  to  unite  the  two  in  a  firm  bond  of  friend 
ship.  To  use  their  own  expressive  phrase,  they  "froze"  to  each 
other.  No  wonder  then  that  the  look,  with  which  the  young 
trapper  regarded  that  black  plain,  was  one  of  indescribable 
anguish. 

To  his  mournful  speech,  I  made  no  reply.  What  could  I  have 
said  ?  I  could  not  offer  consolation.  I  was  weeping  as  well  as 
he  :  my  silence  was  but  an  assent  to  his  sad  soliloquy  : 

After  a  moment,  he  continued,  his  voice  still  tremulous  with 
sorrow  :  "  Come,  cotnmarade  !  It  are  no  use  our  cryin  like  a 
kupple  o'  squaws."  With  his  large  finger  he  dashed  the  tears 
aside,  as  if  ashamed  of  having  shed  them.  "  It  are  all  over  now. 
Let's  look  arter  his  bones — that  is,  if  thar's  anything  left  o'  'em 
— and  gie  ?em  Christy un  burial.  Come  I" 

We  caught  our  horses,  and  mounting,  rode  off  over  the  burnt 
ground.  The  hoofs  of  the  animals  tossed  up  the  smouldering 
ashes,  the  hot  red  cinders  causing  them  to  prance.  The  smoke 
pained  our  eyes,  and  prevented  us  from  seeing  far  ahead  ;  but  we 
guided  ourselves,  as  well  as  we  could,  towards  the  point  where 
we  had  last  seen  the  trapper,  and  where  we  expected  to  find  his 
remains. 

On  nearing  the  spot,  our  eyes  fell  upon  a  dark  mass  that  lay 
upon  the  plain  ;  it  was  much  larger  than  the  body  of  a  man.  We 
could  not  make  out  what  it  was,  until  within  a  few  feet  of  it,  and 
even  then  it  was  difficult  to  recognize  it  as  the  carcass  of  a 
buffalo — though  such  in  reality  it  was.  It  was  the  game  which 


162  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

the  tiapper  had  killed.  It  rested  as  it  had  fallen — as  these  ani« 
mals  usually  fall — upon  the  breast,  with  legs  widely  spread,  and 
humped  shoulders  upward.  We  could  perceive  that  the  unfor 
tunate  man  had  nearly  finished  skinning  it — for  the  hide,  parted 
along  the  spine,  had  been  removed  from  the  back  and  sides,  and 
with  the  fleshy  side  turned  outward,  was  hanging  to  the  ground, 
so  as  to  conceal  the  lower  half  of  the  carcass.  The  whole  sur 
face  was  burnt  to  the  color  of  charcoal. 

But  where  were  the  remains  of  the  hunter  ?  They  were  no 
where  to  be  seen  near  the  spot.  The  smoke  had  cleared  away 
sufficiently  to  enable  us  to  observe  the  ground  for  several  hun 
dred  yards  around  us.  An  object  of  small  dimensions  could  have 
been  distinguished  upon  the  now  bare  surface  ;  but  none  was 
-seen.  Yes  !  a  mass  lay  beside  the  carcass,  which  drew  our  atten 
tion  for  a  moment  ;  but  on  riding  up  to  it  we  perceived  that  it 
was  the  stomach  and  intestines  of  the  buffalo,  black  and  half 
broiled. 

Where  were  the  bones  of  Rube  ?  Had  he  run  away  from  the 
spot,  and  perished  elsewhere  ? 

We  glanced  towards  the  fire  still  raging  on  the  distant  plain. 
But  no  :  it  was  not  probable  he  had  gone  thence.  By  the  last 
look  we  had  obtained  of  him,  it  did  not  appear  that  he  was  mak 
ing  any  effort  to  escape,  and  he  could  scarcely  have  gone  a  hun 
dred  yards  before  the  flames  swept  over  the  spot.  How  then  ? 
Were  his  bones  entirely  consumed — calcined — reduced  to  ashes  ? 
The  lean,  withered,  and  dried-up  body  of  the  old  mountain-man 
favored  such  a  supposition  ;  and  we  began  seriously  to  entertain 
it — for  in  no  other  way  could  we  account  for  the  total  absence 
of  all  remains  I 

For  some  moments  we  sat  in  our  saddles  under  the  influence 
of  strange  emotions,  but  without  exchanging  a  word.  We  scanned 
the  black  surface  round  and  round.  The  smoke  no  longer  hin 
dered  our  view  of  the  ground.  In  the  weed-prairies  there  is  no 
grassy  turf ;  and  the  dry  herbaceous  stems  of  the  annuals  had 


••  No,"  said  Gitrey,  with  a  long-drawn  sigh.  "  Poor  Old  llube  !  Tlie  cussed  thing  lia.- 
ourned  him  to  ashes — bones  an'  all !  Thur  ain't  as  much  o'  im  left  as  'ud  fill  a  tabacca 
pipe !" 

"The thur  ain't!"  replied  a  voice  that  caused  both  of  us  to  start  in  our  saddles 

i*  if  it  had  been  Rube's  ghost  that  addressed  us. — PARK  1<v" 


KUBE   BOASTED   AL.VE.  163 

ourned  out,  with  the  rapidity  of  blazing  flax,  so  that  nothing 
now  remained  to  cause  a  smoke.  The  fire  was  red  or  dead  in 
an  instant.  We  could  see  clear  enough  all  that  lay  over  the 
ground,  but  nothing  like  the  remains  of  a  human  being  I 

"  No,"  said  Garey,  with  a  long-drawn  sigh.  "  Poor  Old  Rube  I 
The  cussed  thing  has  burned  him  to  ashes — bones  an  all  !  Thur 
ain't  as  much  o'  im  left  as  'ud  fill  a  tabacca-pipe  1" 

"  The  h-11  thur  ain't !"  replied  a  voice  that  caused  both  of  us 
to  start  in  our  saddles,  as  if  it  had  been  Rube's  ghost  that  ad 
dressed  us — "  the  h-11  thur  ain't !"  repeated  the  voice,  as  though 
it  came  out  of  the  ground  beneath  our  feet.  "Thur's  enough  o' 
Ole  Rube  left  to  fill  the  stummuk  o'  this  hyur  buffler  ;  an  by  the 
jumpin  Geehosophat,  a  tight  fit  it  ur  !  Wagh  !  I'm  nigh  suf 
focated  !  Gie's  yur  claws,  Bill,  an  pull  me  out  o'  this  hyur  trap  !'' 

To  our  astonishment  the  pendent  hide  of  the  buffalo  was  raised 
by  an  invisible  hand  ;  and  underneath  appeared,  protruding 
through  a  hole  in  the  side  of  the  huge  carcass,  the  unmistakable 
physiognomy  of  the  earless  trapper  ! 

There  was  something  so  ludicrous  in  the  apparition,  that  the 
sight  of  it,  combined  with  the  joyful  reaction  of  our  feelings,  sent 
both  Garey  and  myself  into  convulsions  of  laughter.  The  young 
trapper  lay  back  in  the  saddle  to  give  freer  play  to  his  lungs  ; 
and  his  loud  cachinnations,  varied  at  intervals  by  savage  yells, 
caused  our  horses  to  dance  about  as  if  they  dreaded  an  onslaught 
of  Indians  ! 

At  first,  I  could  detect  a  significant  smile  at  the  angles  formed 
by  Rube's  thin  lips  ;  but  this  disappeared  as  the  laughter  con 
tinued  too  long  for  his  patience. 

"  Cuss  yur  larfin  !"  cried  he  at  length.  "  Kum,  Billee,  boy  I 
Lay  holt  hyur,  an  gi'  me  a  help,  or  I  must  wriggle  out  o'  mee- 
self.  The  durned  hole  ain't  es  big  es  twur  when  I  krep  in.  Duru 
it,  man,  make  haste  !  I'm  beiter'n  half-baked  !" 

Garey  now  leaped  from  his  horse,  and  taking  hold  of  his  com 
rade  by  the  "claws,"  drew  him  out  of  his  singular  hiding-plare, 


164:  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

But  the  appearance  of  the  old  trapper,  as  he  stood  erect — red, 
reeking,  and  greasy — was  so  supremely  ludicrous,  that  both 
Garey  and  I  were  forced  into  a  fresh  fit  of  laughter,  which  lasted 
for  several  minutes. 

Rube,  once  released  from  his  uncomfortable  situation,  paid  not 
the  slightest  attention  to  our  mirth  ;  but  stooping  down,  drew 
out  his  long  rifle — from  where  he  had  secured  it  under  the  hang 
ing  skin — and  after  having  examined  the  piece,  to  see  that  DO 
harm  had  come  to  it,  he  laid  it  gently  across  the  horns  of  the 
bull.  Then  taking  the  "bowie"  from  his  belt,  he  quietly  pro 
ceeded  with  the  skinning  of  the  buffalo,  as  if  nothing  had  hap 
pened  to  interrupt  the  operation. 

Meanwhile  Garey  and  I  had  laughed  ourselves  hoarse,  and, 
moreover,  were  brimful  of  curiosity  to  know  the  particulars  of 
Rube's  adventure.  For  some  time  he  fought  shy  of  our  queries, 
and  pretended  to  be  "  miffed "  at  the  manner  in  whi^h  we  had 
welcomed  him  to  life  again.  It  was  all  pretence,  however,  as 
Garey  well  knew  ;  and  the  latter  having  thrust  into  his  comrade's 
hand  the  gourd,  still  containing  a  small  drop  of  aguardiente, 
soon  conciliated  him  ;  and  after  a  little  more  coaxing,  he  conde 
scended  to  give  us  the  details  of  his  curious  escapade.  Tims 
ran  his  narration  : 

"  Ee  wur  both  o'  yur  mighty  green  to  think  thet  arter  fightin 
grizzly  bar  an  Injun  for  nigh  forty  yeern  on  these  hyur  pararais, 
I  wur  a  gwine  to  be  rubbed  out  by  a  spunk  o'  fire  like  thet. 
Preehaps  'twur  natural  enough  for  the  young  fellur  hyur  to  take 
me  for  a  greenhorn,  seein  as  he  oncost  tuk  me  for  a  grizzly.  He, 
he,  he — ho,  ho,  boo  !  I  say  it  wur,  an  ur  natural  enough  for 
him  to  a  thort  so  ;  but  you  might  a  knowd  better — yr,n,,  Bill 
Garey,  seein  as  ee  oughter  knowd  me. 

"  Wai  !"  continued  Rube,  after  another  "  suck"  at  the  gourd, 
"  when  I  seed  the  weeds  afire,  I  knowd  it  wa'nt  no  use  makiu 
tracks.  Preehaps  if  I'd  a  spied  the  thing  when  the  bleeze  fust 
broke  out,  I  mout  a  run  for  it,  an  mout  a  hed  time  ;  but  I  wur 


RUBE    ROASTED    ALIVE.  165 

uusy  ^kinnin  this  hyur  beest  wi'  my  head  clost  down  to  the  kar- 
kidg»y  an  thurfor  didn't  see  nuthin  till  I  heern  the  cracklin,  an 
in  coorse  thur  wa'nt  the  ghost  o'  a  chance  to  git  clur  then.  I 
seed  thet  at  the  fust  glhnp. 

"  I  ain't  a  gwine  to  say  I  wa'nt  skeart ;  I  wur  skeart,  an  bad 
skeart  too.  I  thort  for  a  spell,  I  wur  boun  -to  go  under.  Jest 
then  I  sot  my  eyes  upon  the  buffler.  I  bed  got  the  critter  'bout 
half-skinned,  as  ee  see  ;  an  the  idee  kirn  inter  my  head,  I  mout 
crawl  somehow  under,  an  pull  the  hide  >ver  me.  I  tried  thct 
plan  fust ;  but  I  kudn't  git  kivered  to  my  saterfaction,  an  I  gin 
it  up.  A  better  idee  then  kirn  uppermost,  an  thet  wur  to  clur 
out  the  auymal's  inside,  an  thur  cache.  I  reck'u  I  wa'nt  long  in 
euttin  out  a  wheen  o'  the  buffler's  ribs,  an  tearin  out  the  guts  ; 
an  I  wa'nt  long  neyther  in  squezzin  my  karkidge,  feet  fo'raost, 
through  the  hole.  I  hedn't  need  to  a  been  long  ;  it  wur  a,  close 
shave  an  a  tight  fit,  it  wur.  Jest  as  1  hed  got  my  head  'bout 
half  through,  the  bleeze  kirn  swizziu  round,  an  nearly  singed  the 
ears  off  o1  me..  He,  he,  he — ho,  ho,  hoo  !" 

Garey  and  I  joined  in  the  laugh,  at  what  we  both  knew  to  be 
one  of  Old  Rube's  favorite  jokes  ;  but  Rube  himself  chuckled  so 
long,  that  we  became  impatient  to  hear  the  end  of  his  adventure. 

"  Well  1"  interrupted  Garey,  "  cousarn  your  old  skin  !  what 
next  r 

"  Wagh  1"  continued  the  trapper,  "  the  way  thet  bleeze  did 
kum  wur  a  caution  to  snakes.  It  roared  and  screeched,  an 
yowlted  an  hissed,  an  the  weeds  crackled  like  a  million  o'  wagon- 
whups  !  I  wur  like  to  be  spiflicated  wi'  the  smoke,  but  I  con- 
truv  to  pull  down  the  flap  o'  hide,  an  thet  gin  me  some  relief, 
though  I  wur  well-nigh  choked  afore  I  got  the  thing  fixed.  So 
thur  I  lay  till  I  heern  you  fellurs  palaverin  about  a  'bacca-pipe, 
an  thurfur  I  knowd  the  hul  thing  wur  over.  Wagh  1" 

And  with  this  exclamation  Rube  ended  his  narration,  and 
once  more  betook  himself  to  the  butchering  of  the  already  half 
masted  buffalo. 


166  THE   WAR-TRAIT,. 

Garey  and  I  lent  a  hand  ;  and  having  cut  out  the  hump-ribs 
and  other  titbits,  we  returned  to  the  camp.  What  with  broiled 
hyodons,  roast  ribs,  tongue,  and  marrow-bones,  we  had  no  rea 
son  for  that  night  to  be  dissatisfied  with  the  hospitality  of  the 
prairies. 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

THE      MESA. 

AFTER  a  breakfast  of  buffalo-flesh,  seasoned  with  splendid  ap 
petites,  and  washed  down  by  a  cup  of  cold  water  from  the  arroyo, 
we  "  saddled  up,"  and  headed  for  a  high  butte,  just  visible  over 
the  plain.  My  companions  knew  the  landmark  well.  It  lay  di 
rectly  in  our  route.  We  should  pass  near  its  base,  and  a  ride 
of  ten  miles  further  would  bring  us  to  the  end  of  our  journey  ; 
indeed,  the  eminence  was  within  sight  of  the  rancheria.  From 
the  roof  of  the  alcalde's  house,  I  had  frequently  noticed  it.  In 
clear  weather  only  was  it  visible,  outlined  against  the  horizon,  in 
a  northwesterly  direction  from  the  village. 

Struck  with  the  singularity  of  this  prairie-mound,  I  had  pro 
jected  a  visit  to  it ;  but  circumstances  had  prevented  me  from 
carrying  out  my  intention.  I  was  now  to  have  the  pleasure  of  u 
nearer  acquaintance  with  it. 

I  have  called  it  singular.  Most  isolated  hills  are  conical, 
dome-shaped,  or  ridge-like  ;  this  one  differed  from  the  usual  con 
figuration — hence  its  singularity.  It  presented  the  appearance 
of  a  huge  box  set  upon  the  prairie,  not  unlike  that  rare  forma 
tion,  the  "  cofre,"  which  crowns  the  summit  of  the  mountain 
Perote*.  Its  sides  in  the  distance  appeared  perfectly  verticalt 
and  its  top  as  horizontal  as  the  plain  on  which  it  rested. 


THE   MESA.  167 

As  we  drew  nearer,  I  could  perceive,  by  the  dark  parapet-like 
band  along  its  crest,  that  it  was  covered  with  a  growth  of  tim 
ber.  This  was  the  more  readily  observed  from  contrast  with  the 
perpendicular  sides,  which  were  almost  of  a  snowy  whiteness,  on 
account  of  the  gypsum,  chalk,  or  milky  quartz  of  which  the  rock 
was  composed.  The  most  peculiar  feature  of  the  mound  was 
perhaps  its  apparently  regular  form — a  perfect  parallelopipedon. 
But  it  was  striking  in  other  respects.  Its  sides  glistened  fan 
tastically  under  the  rays  of  the  sun,  as  though  it  were  studded 
with  windows  of  glass.  This,  however,  was  easily  accounted 
for  ;  and  I  knew  that  the  sparkling  effect  was  produced  by  plates 
of  mica  or  selenite  that  entered  into  the  composition  of  the  rock. 
I  had  seen  whole  mountains  that  presented  a  similar  appearance. 
More  than  one  such  exists  in  the  great  American  Saa'ra,  in  whose 
glittering  cliffs,  viewed  from  afar,  may  be  found  the  origin  of  that 
wild  chimera,  the  mountain  of  gold. 

Although  neither  a  mountain  of  gold  nor  silver,  the  mound  in 
question  was  an  object  of  rare  interest.  A  very  enchanted  castle 
did  it  appear,  and  it  was  difficult  to  assign  its  formation  to  nature 
alone.  Human  agency,  one  could  not  help  fancying,  must  have 
had  something  to  do  in  piling  up  a  structure  so  regular  and  com 
pact.  But  he  who  has  travelled  over  much  of  the  earth's  sur 
face  will  have  met  with  many  "  frea.ks"  of  nature,  exhibiting  like 
opr>earance  of  design,  in  her  world  of  inorganic  matter.  It  was, 
in  iO,?t,  one  of  those  formations  of  which  many  are  met  with  in 
the  plateaux-lands  of  America,  known  in  Spanish  phraseology  as 
mesas.  This  name  is  given  to  them  in  allusion  to  the  flat  table 
like  tops,  which  distinguish  them  from  other  elevated  summits. 
Sometimes  one  of  these  mesas  is  found  hundreds  of  miles  from 
any  similar  eminence  ;  more  frequently  a  number  of  them  stand 
near  each  other,  like  truncated  cones — the  summits  of  all  being 
on  the  same  level,  and  often  covered  with  a  vegetation  differing 
materially  from  that  of  the  surrounding  plains.  Geologists  have 
affirmed  that  these  table-tops  are  the  ancient  level  of  the  plain* 


168  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

themselves  ;  and  that  all  around,  and  intervening  between  them, 
has  either  sunk  or  submitted  to  the  degradation  of  water  !  It 
is  a  vague  explanation,  and  scarcely  satisfies  the  speculative 
mind.  The  mesa  of  Mexico  is  still  a  geological  puzzle. 

As  we  approached  this  singular  object,  I  could  not  help  re 
garding  it  with  a  degree  of  curiosity.  I  had  seen  mesa  heights 
before — in  the  "mauvaise  terre,"  upon  the  Missouri,  in  the 
Navajo  country  west  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  along  the 
edges  of  the  *'  Llano  Estacado,"  which  of  itself  is  a  vast  mesa. 
The  mound  before  us  was  peculiar,  from  its  very  regular  form, 
and  the  sparkling  sheen  of  its  cliffs.  Its  complete  isolation, 
moreover,  added  to  the  effect — for  no  other  eminence  appeared 
in  sight.  The  low  hills  that  bordered  the  Rio  Grande  could 
barely  be  distinguished  in  the  distance. 

On  getting  nearer  to  it,  its  character  became  somewhat  altered  ; 
the  square  box-like  form  appeared  less  regular,  and  it  was  then 
perceived  that  the  parallelopipedou  was  not  perfect.  Slight 
ledges  could  be  traced  traversing  the  face  of  its  cliffs,  and  here 
and  there  the  rectangular  lines  were  broken  to  the  eye.  Nature, 
after  all,  had  not  been  so  exact  in  her  architecture.  Yet,  with 
every  deductiod,  it  was  a  singular  structure  to  look  upon,  not  the 
less  so  that  its  summit  was  inaccessible  to  human  foot.  A  pro 
cipice  fifty  yards  sheer  fronted  outward  on  all  sides  ;  no  one  had 
ever  scaled  this  precipice — so  alleged  my  companions,  who  were 
well  acquainted  with  the  locality. 

We  had  approached  within  less  than  a  mile  of  its  base  ;  GUI 
conversation  had  dropped — at  least  so  far  as  I  was  concerned  , 
nij  thoughts  were  occupied  with  the  mound,  and  my  eyes  wan 
dered  over  its  outlines.  I  was  endeavoring  to  make  out  the 
character  of  the  vegetation  which  seemed  to  flourish  luxuriantly 
on  its  summit.  The  dark  foliage  was  evidently  that  uf  some 
species  of  acicular  trees,  perhaps  the  common  red  cedar  (Juni- 
perus  Virginiana) ;  but  there  were  others  of  lighter  hue — in  all 
likelihood  pinons,  the  pines  with  edible  cones,  peculiar  to  this 


THE   MESA.  169 

region.  I  noticed,  also,  growing  upon  the  very  edge  of  the  cliff, 
yuccas  and  aloes,  whose  radiating  blades,  stretching  out,  curved 
gracefully  over  the  white  rock.  Forms  of  cactus,  too,  were  ap 
parent,  and  several  plants  of  the  great  pitahaya,  rose  high  above 
the  cliff,  like  gigantic  candelabra,  strange  objects  in  vsuch  a  situa 
tion. 

My  companions  seemed  to  have  no  eyes  for  these  rare  vege 
table  beauties  ;  I  could  hear  them-  at  intervals  engaged  in  con 
versation  ;  but  the  subject  had  no  reference  to  the  scene,  and  I 
paid  little  attention  to  what  they  were  saying. 

All  at  once  I  was  startled  by  the  voice  of  Garey,  giving  utter 
ance  to  the  emphatic  announcement : 

"  Injuns,  by I" 

"  Indians  ! — where  ?" 

The  interrogation  escaped  my  lips.  It  was  half-involuntary, 
and  needed  no  reply.  Garey's  glance  guided  me  ;  and,  following 
its  direction,  I  observed  a  string  of  horsemen  just  debouching 
from  behind  the  mesa,  and  spurring  forward  upon  the  plain. 

Both  my  companions  had  drawn  bridle,  and  halted.  I  followed 
their  example  ;  and  all  three  of  us  sat  in  our  saddles,  scanning 
this  sudden  apparition  of  mounted  men.  A  dozen  had  now 
cleared  themselves  from  behind  the  mesa,  and  were  riding 
towards  us. 

W*  were  yet  nearly  a  mile  from  them  ;  and  at  that  distance 
it  is  difficult  to  distinguish  a  white  man  from  an  Indian — I  should 
rather  say  impossible.  Even  at  half  the  distance,  the  oldest 
prairie-men  are  sometimes  puzzled.  The  garments  are  often  not 
very  dissimilar,  and  sun-bronze  and  dust  confound  the  complex 
ions.  Although  Garey,  at  first  sight  of  them,  had  pronounced 
the  horsemen  to  be  Indians — the  most  probable  supposition 
under 'the  circumstances — it  was  but  a  random  conjecture,  and 
for  some  time  we  remained  in  doubt. 

"  If  they're  Injuns,'7  suggested  Garey,  "  they're  Comanche." 

"  An  if  thur  Kimanch,"  added  Rube,  with  ominous  emphasis, 

8 


170  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

*'  we've  got  to  fight.  If  thur  Kimanch,  thur  on  the  war-trail,  an 
thur'll  be  mischief  in  'em.  Wagh  !  Look  to  your  flints  an 
primin  !" 

Rube's  counsel  was  instantly  followed.  Necessity  quickened 
our  precautions.  All  of  us  well  knew,  that,  should  the  approach 
ing  horsemen  turn  out  to  be  Comanches,  we  had  no  alternative 
but  fight. 

This  warlike  nation  occupies  the  whole  western  area  of  Texas, 
ranging  from  the  Rio  Grande  on  the  south  to  the  Arkansas  on 
the  north.  They  are  to-day,  with  their  kindred  tribes,  the  most 
powerful  Indian  alliance  on  the  continent.  They  affect  the 
ownership  of  all  prairie-land,  styling  themselves  its  "  lords," 
though  their  sovereignty  towards  the  north  is  successfully  dis 
puted  by  the  Pawnees,  Sioux,  Blackfeet,  and  others  as  warlike 
as  they.  From  the  earliest  times,  they  have  been  the  fiend  of 
the  Texan  settler  ;  and  a  detailed  account  of  their  forays  and 
pillaging  expeditions  would  fill  a  score  of  volumes.  But  from 
these  they  have  not  gone  back  unscathed.  The  reprisals  have 
outnumbered  the  assaults,  and  the  rifle  of  the  border  ranger  has 
done  its  work  of  vengeance.  In  Mexico  they  have  found  less 
puissant  defenders  of  the  hearth  and  home  ;  and  upon  the  north 
eastern  provinces  of  that  unhappy  country,  the  Comanches  have 
been  for  the  last  half-century  in  the  habit  of  making  an  annual 
foray  of  war  and  plunder.  In  fact,  this  has  become  the  better 
part  of  their  subsistence,  as  they  usually  return  from  their  riev- 
krg  expeditions  laden  with  spoil,  and  carrying  with  them  vast 
droves  of  horses,  mules,  horned  cattle,  and  captive  women.  For 
a  short  time  these  dusky  freebooters  were  at  peace  with  the  Anglo- 
American  colonists  of  Texas.'  It  was  but  a  temporary  armistice, 
brought  about  by  Houston  ;  but  Lamar's  administration,  of  a 
less  pacific  character,  succeeded,  and  the  settlers  were  again  em 
broiled  with  the  Indians.  War  to  the  knife  was  declared  and 
carried  on  ;  red  and  white  killed  each  other  on  sight.  When 
two  men  met  upon  the  prairie,  the  color  of  th<?  skin  determined 


THE  MESA..  171 

lie  relations  between  them  !  If  they  differed  in  this,  they  were 
enemies  without  parley,  and  to  kill  the  other  was  the  first  thought 
)f  each.  The  lex  talionis  was  the  custom  of  the  hour. 

If  the  rancor  could  possibly  have  been  augmented,  an  incident 
had  just  transpired  calculated  to  have  that  effect.  A  band  of 
Comanche  warriors  had  offered  their  services  to  the  commander- 
in-chief  of  the  American  army!  They  held  the  following  lan 
guage  : 

"  Let  us  fight  on  your  side.  We  have  no  quarrel  with  you. 
You  are  warriors  :  we  know  it,  and  respect  you.  We  fight 
against  the  cowardly  Mexicans,  who  robbed  us  of  our  country. 
We  fight  for  Moctezuma  !" 

These  words,  uttered  along  the  whole  northern  frontier  of 
Mexico,  are  full  of  strange  import. 

The  American  commander  prudently  declined  the  Comanche 
alliance  ;  and  the  result  was  the  bitter  triangular  war  in  which, 
as  already  noticed,  we  were  now  engaged.  4 

If,  then,  the  approaching  horsemen  were  Indians  of  the  Co 
manche  tribe,  Rube's  forecast  was  correct ;  we  had  "  got  to 
fight." 

With  this  understanding,  we  lost  no  time  in  putting  ourselves 
in  an  attitude  of  defence.  Hastily  dismounting,  and  sheltering 
our  bodies  behind  those  of  our  horses,  we  awaited  the  approach 
of  the  band, 


172  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

GUERRILLEROS. 

THE  manoeuvre  had  occupied  only  a  few  seconds  of  time,  and 
the  horsemen  were  yet  distant.  They  had  thrown  themselves 
into  a  formation,  and  were  riding  "  by  twos  /" 

This  movement  took  us  by  surprise.  The  tactics  were  not  In 
dian  :  Comanches  never  march  in  double  file.  The  horsemen 
could  not  be  Indians.  Who,  then  ? 

A  sudden  hope  crossed  my  mind,  that  it  might  be  a  party  of 
my  own  people,  out  in  search  of  me.  "  By  twos "  was  our 
favorite  and  habitual  order  of  march.  But  no  ;  the  long  lances 
and  streaming  pennons  at  once  dissipated  the  hope  :  there  was 
not  a  lance  in  the  American  army.  They  could  not  be  "  rangers." 

Comanches  on  the  war-trail  would  have  been  armed  with  the 
lance,  but  clearly  they  were  not  Comanches. 

"  Wagh  I"  exclaimed  Rube,  after  eyeing  them  intently,  "  Ef 
thur  Injuns,  I'm  a  niggur  !  Ef  thur  Injuns,  they've  got  beards 
an  sombrayras,  an  thet  a'Vt  Injun  sign  nohow.  No  1"  he  added, 
raising  his  voice,  "  thur  a  gang  o'  yellur-bellied  Mexikins  !  thet's 
what  they  ur." 

All  three  of  us  had  arrived  simultaneously  at  the  same  con 
viction.  The  horsemen  were  Mexicans. 

It  was  no  great  source  of  rejoicing  to  know  this  ;  and  the 
knowledge  produced  no  change  in  our  defensive  attitude.  We 
well  knew  that  a  band  of  Mexicans,  armed  as  these  were,  could 
not  be  other  than  a  hostile  party,  and  bitter  too  in  their  hostility. 
For  several  weeks  past,  the  petite  gwrre  had  been  waged  with 
dire  vengeance.  The  neutral  ground  had  been  the  scene  of  re- 


GUEBKILLEROS.  173 

M 

prisals,  and  terrible  retaliations.  On  one  side,  wagon-trains  had 
been  attacked  and  captured,  harmless  teamsters  murdered,  or 
mutilated  whilst  still  alive.  I  saw  one  with  his  arms  cut  off  by 
the  elbow-joints,  his  heart  taken  out,  and  thrust  between  his 
teeth  !  He  was  dead  ;  but  another  whom  I  saw  still  lived,  with 
the  cross  deeply  gashed  upon  his  breast,  upon  his  brow,  on  the 
soles  of  his  feet,  and  the  palms  of  his  hands — a  horrid  spectacle 
to  look  upon  ! 

On  the  other  side,  ranchos  were  ransacked  and  ruined,  villages 
given  to  the  flames,  and  men  on  mere  suspicion  shot  down  upon 
the  spot  or  hanged  upon  the  nearest  tree  !  Such  a  character 
had  the  war  assumed  ;  and  under  these  circumstances,  we  knew 
that  the  approaching  horsemen  were  our  deadly  foes. 

Beyond  a  doubt,  it  was  either  a  scouting  party  of  Mexican 
lancers,  a  guerilla,  or  a  band  of  robbers.  During  the  war,  the 
two  last  were  nearly  synonymous,  and  the  first  not  unfrequently 
partook  of  the  character  of  both. 

One  thing  that  puzzled  us — what  could  any  of  the  three  be 
doing  in  that  quarter  ?  The  neutral  ground — the  scene  of 
guerilla  operations — lay  between  the  two  armies  ;  and  we  were 
now  far  remote  from  it ;  in  fact,  altogether  away  from  the  settle 
ments.  What  could  have  brought  lancers,  guerilleros,  or  rob- 
Ders,  out  upon  the  plains  ?  There  was  no  game  in  that  quarter 
for  any  of  these  gentry — neither  an  American  force  to  be  attack 
ed,  nor  a  traveller  to  be  plundered  !  My  own  troop  was  the 
out-picket  in  this  direction,  and  it  was  full  ten  miles  off.  The 
only  thing  likely  to  be  met  with  near  the  mesa  was  a  war-party 
of  Comanches,  and  we  knew  the  Mexicans  well  enough  to  be  con 
vinced  that,  whether  soldiers  or  freebooters,  they  were  not  in 
search  of  that. 

Such  reflections,  made  in  double-quick  time,  occurred  to  us  as 
we  scanned  the  advancing  troop. 

Up  to  this  moment,  they  had  ridden  directly  towards  us,  and 
were  now  nearly  in  a  line  between  us  and  the  mesa.  On  getting 


174:  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

4 

within  about  half  a  mile  of  our  position,  they  turned  sharply  to 
ward  the  west,  and  rode  as  if  to  make  round  to  our  rear  !  This 
manoeuvre  of  course  placed  us  upon  their  flank ;  and  now,  out 
lined  against  the  sky,  we  could  distinctly  trace  their  forms  and 
note  their  habiliments  and  armour.  Nearly  all  wore  broad- 
brimmed  sombreros,  with  jacket,  sash,  and  calzoneros.  They 
carried  lanqes,  lazoes,  and  carbines  or  escopettes.  We  could  dis 
tinguish  sabres  and  machetes — the  universal  weapon  of  the  Mexi 
can  ranchero.  They  could  not  be  drilled  troops.  Their  costumes, 
as  well  as  a  certain  irregularity  in  their  manoeuvring,  forbade 
this  supposition.  Their  lances,  moreover,  were  borne  in  all  sorts 
of  ways — some  couched,  some  resting  in  the  stirrup  and  held 
correctly,  while  others  were  carried  over  the  shoulder  like  a  fire 
lock  !  No,  they  could  not  be  a  troop  of  regulars  They  were 
either  guerrilkros  or  true  salteadores. 

After  riding  nearly  a  half-circle  round — still  keeping  at  the 
same  distance — the  troop  suddenly  made  front  towards  us,  and 
halted. 

We  had  been  puzzled  by  their  going  round  ;  we  could  not 
divine  their  object  in  so  doing.  It  could  not  be  to  cut  off  our 
retreat.  The  timber  in  the  back  direction  was  miles  off.  Had 
it  been  near  enough,  we  should  certainly  have  retreated  to  it 
long  before  ;  but  we  knew  it  was  too  distant.  Rube  and  his 
old  mare  would  have  been  overtaken  by  our  well-mounted 
enemies,  long  ere  we  could  have  gained  the  woods;  we  knew  this, 
and  therefore  did  not  think  of  making  the  attempt.  On  the 
other  side  was  the  mesa,  which,  by  their  late  movement  had  been 
left  open  to  us.  It  was  but  a  half  mile  off,  and  perhaps,  by 
making  a  dash,  we  might  have  reached  it;  but  not  a  tree  grew 
near  it — except  those  on  its  summit — and  its  rocky  wall  appar 
ently  offered  no  advantage  to  us,  any  more  than  the  open  plain. 
The  enemy  seemed  to  be  aware  of  this,  else  they  would  not  have 
ridden  round,  and  thus  left  the  way  clear. 

Until  the  moment  of  their  halt,  therefore,  we  remained  ignor 


GUERRILLEKO8.  175 

ant  of  their  motive  in  moviig  to  our  rear;  then  it  was  explained. 
Their  object  was  evident  tc  all  of  us:  they  had  halted  between 
us  and  the  sun  ! 

It  was  a  cunning  manoeuvre,  worthy  of  a  war-party  of  Indians, 
and  told  us  we  had  no  common  enemy  to  deal  with.  By  ap 
proaching  us  from  that  direction,  they  would  have  a  decided 
advantage  ;  our  aim  would  be  spoiled  by  the  sun — now  low  dowo 
upon  the  horizon,  and  gleaming  right  in  our  eyes.  My  compan 
ions  were  wroth  at  the  trick  that  had  been  thus  played  so 
adroitly;  though  we  could  not  have  hindered  it  even  if  forewarned. 

We  were  allowed  but  little-  time  to  reflect  upon  the  matter  ; 
we  saw  by  the  movements  of  the  horsemen  that  they  were  pre 
paring  to  charge.  One  who  appeared  to  be  the  leader,  mounted 
upon  a  larger  horse  than  any  of  the  rest,  was  addressing  them. 
He  rode  along  the  line  speaking  in  a  loud  tone,  and  gesticulat 
ing  violently;  he  was  answered  with  vivas,  which  we  could  plainly 
hear.  Every  moment  we  looked  to  see  them  gallop  forward. 

We  knew  there  was  no  alternative  but  fight  or  surrender, 
though  not  one  of  us  entertained  an  idea  of  the  latter  ;  for  my 
self,  I  should  as  soon  have  thought  of  turning  my  pistol  to  rny 
own  head.  My  uniform,  tattered  as  it  was,  would  easily  reveal 
my  character  to  the  enemy  ;  and,  if  captured,  I  knew  I  should 
be  hung,  or  perhaps  in  the  absence  of  trees,  shot  down  upon  the 
spot.  My  comrades  had  reasons  for  knowing  that  their  shrift 
would  be  equally  short  :  neither  thought  for  a  moment  of  tamely 
yielding. 

"  No  I"  emphatically  pronounced  Rube,  "this  child  don't  »uv 
in,  till  he's  rubbed  out,  he  don't  !  Tarnation  odds  too  !"  he  add 
ed,  looking  towards  the  troop;  "twelve  agin  three  o'  us.  Durc 
the  odds  1  I've  got  clur  o'  wuss  scrapes  than  't  looks  yit,  ar.d  so 
-Ve  you,  Bill  Garey — hain't  we,  boyee  ?  Durn  the  odds  1  let 
'em  kum  on  ?" 

"  Ay,"  responded  Garey,  without  the  slightest  show  of  excite 
ment,  "they'd  better  not  come  too  near  'ithout  tellin  tharbisness 


176  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

I  see  one  saddle  that  I'll  empty  the  minnit  they  pass  yon  weed." 
And  the  speaker  indicated  a  bunch  of  the  artemisia  plant  that 
grew  some  two  hundred  pares  off  in  the  direction  of  the  horse 
men. 

The  reckless  talk  of  the  old  trapper,  with  the  contrasted  cool 
bearing  of  his  younger  companion,  had  fixed  my  nerves  fully. 
At  the  first  sight  of  so  many  adversaries,  I  was  not  without  some 
misgivings — in  fact,  I  felt  fear.  Such  odds  against  us — four  to 
one — was  fair  cause  for  apprehension.  But  it  was  not  my  first 
fight  against  large  odds,  both  Indian  and  Mexican  ;  and  on  that 
account  I  regarded  it  the  l«ss  seriously. 

Notwithstanding  the  superiority  of  our  enemy  in  number,  I 
knew  we  were  not  so  unequal.  Unless  shot  down  by  the  finst 
volley  of  their  carbines  and  escopettes,  each  of  our  three  rifles 
was  sure  of  its  man.  I  had  confidence  in  my  own  weapon,  and 
a  still  more  perfect  reliance  on  those  of  my  comrades.  They 
were  men  that  never  missed — men  who  never  fired  a  random 
shot — never  drew  trigger  till  their  aim  was  sure.  I  felt  certain, 
therefore,  that  should  the  horsemen  charge  upon  us,  only  nine. 
of  the  twelve  would  ever  come  within  pistol-shot,  and  for  that 
iistance  we  were  well  prepared.  I  carried  in  my  belt  a  six- 
chambered  revolver,  one  of  Colt's  best ;  Garey  had  another — a 
present  I  had  made  him  many  years  before — and  Rube  was 
armed  with  a  pair  of  stout  single  barrels,  like  enough  to  do  good 
service. 

"  Seventeen  shots  !  wi'  our  bowies  to  fall  back  upon  1"  cried 
Garey  triumphantly,  as  we  finished  a  hasty  survey  of  our  arms. 

As  yet  the  enemy  did  not  advance;  notwithstanding  their  vivas 
and  ejaculations,  they  appeared  to  hesitate  about  charging. 
Their  leader,  and  another — a  lieutenant,  perhaps — were  still  seen 
;iding  along  their  line,  as  if  animating  them  by  further  speech, 
aud  giving  them  orders  how  to  act. 

Meanwhile,  we  had  not  been  idle  •  we  had  formed  square  to 
receive  the  charge  !  You  may  smile,  but  such  was  in  reality  the 


THE   P-AJRLEY.  177 

case  We  had  formed  square — with  our  horses  !  There  were 
four  oi  them,  for  the  wild  horse  counted  one.  Garey,  who  rode 
like  a  Comanche,  had  broken  him  at  our  last  camp,  and  he  was 
now  perfectly  tractable.  The  shake  cf  a  lazo  rendered  him  docile 
as  a  lamb. 

The  four  were  tied  Lead  to  head,  and  croup  to  croup,  and  each 
formed  one  side  of  the  square.  They  could  not  have  broken  it 
even  under  a  charge  of  cavalry  ;  bridles  must  be  untied  or  cut, 
and  lazoes  set  loose,  before  that  formation  could  be  destroyed  ! 

Within  stood  we,  fronting  our  foes — the  large  horse  of  Garey 
forming  our  barricade — our  heads  and  feet  alone  visible  to  the 
enemy. 

Thus  did  we  await  their  onset. 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

THE   PARLEY. 

ANOTHER  chorus  of  vivas  announced  that  the  guerrilla  ehia> 
had  finished  his  oration,  and  that  the  attack  was  about  to  b» 
made.  We  saw  him,  with  one  or  ,two  others,  advance  in  front 
of  the  line,  and  head  towards  us,  evidently  intending  to  lead. the 
charge. 

"  Now  !"  muttered  Rube,  in  a  sharp  quick  tone,  "guns  ready, 
boys  1  no  waste  shots,  d'  yur  hear  ?  Lead  counts  hyur — it  do. 
See  1  By  the  jumpin  Geehosophat,  thur  a  gwine  to  ride  right 

down  1  Let  'em  kum  on,  and  be !  Thur's  one  o'  'em  won't 

git  this  fur — I  mout  say  two — I  mout  say  three  i'deed.  Durn 
the  glint  o'  thet  sun  1  Billee  !"  he  continued,  addressing  Garey, 
"ee  '11  shoot  fust;  yur  gun's  furrest  carry.  Plug  the  big  un  on 
8* 


ITS  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

the  clay-bank  boss.  This  child's  for  No.  2  on  the  grey  mustang 
An,  young  fellur  1  ee  '11  jest  pick  off  thet  niggur  on  the  roan.  I 
know  yur  wild  cat  to  the  bone,  but  keep  yur  eye  skinned,  and 
yur  narves  steady,  d'  yur  hear  ?" 

"  Yes,  yes  !"  I  hurriedly  answered,  though  at  the  time  steadi 
ness  of  nerves  was  easier  promised  than  practised.  My  heart 
was  heaving  in  quick  pulsations  at  the  near  jfrospect  of  the  terri 
ble  drama  about  to  be  enacted. 

At  this  moment  the  "  Forward"  fell  upon  our  ears,  and  with 
the  wild  notes  of  the  bugle  came  the  words  : 

"  Andela  !  anda  !  Dios  y  Guadalupe  /" 

In  an  instant,  the  troop  was  in  motion,  and  pressed  forward, 
galloping  to  the  charge. 

They  had  not  made  many  stretches  before  their  line  became 
broken,  several  of  the  swiftest  or  most  courageous  forging  ahead 
of  the  others. 

"  The  three  fo'most  1"  cried  Rube,  in  the  same  sharp  tone — 
*'  the  three  fo'most  !  That'll  fotch  'em  up  wi'  a  roun  turn,  or 
this  child's  mistaken.  Now,  boyees  !  mind  yur  eyes  !  Steady! 
Stea-dy — stea-dy  " 

All  at  once,  Rube's  muttered  cautions,  slowly  drawled  out, 
were  changed  to  an  exclamation  that  betokened  surprise,  follow 
ed  by  a  long  low  whistle  of  the  same  import  !  The  cause  was 
clear.  The  guerrilleros  had  got  within  three  hundred  yards  of 
us,  still  going  at  a  gallop,  but  we  could  perceive  that  their  pace 
slackened  as  they  advanced  ;  already  it  was  more  of  an  amble, 
than  the  forward  dash  of  an  earnest  charge.  It  was  evident 
they  had  no  stomach  for  the  business — now  that  they  were  near 
enough  to  see  the  shining  barrels  and  black  hollow  tubes  of  oar 
levelled  rifles. 

Garey  was  waiting  till  the  foremost  should  pass  the  artemisia 
bush  ;  for  by  that  he  had  long  since  calculated  the  point-blank 
range  of  his  rifle.  Another  moment,  and  its  crack  would  have 
been  heard  ;  but  the  horseman,  as  if  warned  by  iastinct,  seemed 


THE    PARLEY.  179 

to  divine  the  exact  limit  of  danger.  Before  reaching  the  bush, 
bis  heart  failed  him,  and  in  a  wavering,  irresolute  manner,  he 
drew  bridle,  and  halted  !  The  others,  nothing  loath,  followed 
his  example,  until  the  whole  troop  had  pulled  up  within  less 
than  three  hundred  yards  of  the  muzzles  of  our  guns  1 

"  Cowed,  by  !"  shouted  Rube  with  a  derisive  laugh. 

"  Hulloo  I"  continued  he,  raising  his  voice  still  louder,  and  ad 
dressing  the  halted  line  :  "what  the  h — 11  do  ee  want,  anyhow  V 

Whether  Rube's  interrogatory  was  understood  or  not,  it 
elicited  a  reply: 

"  Amigos !  somos  amigos !"  (We  are  friends  !)  shouted  back 
the  leader  of  the  band. 

"  Friends  be  durned  !"  exclaimed  the  trapper,  who  knew 
enough  of  Spanish  to  understand  the  signification  of  amigos. 
"Nice  friends  you!  Wagh  !  D'yur  think  to  bamfoozle  US' 
thet  away  ?  Keep  yur  distance  now  P  continued  he,  raising 
his  rifle  iu  a  threatening  manner,  as  a  movement  was  perceptible 
among  the  horsemen.  "  Keep  yur  distance,  or,  by  the  tarnal 
airthquake  1  I'll  plug  the  fust  o'  ye  thet  rides  within  reach. 
Durn  such  friends  as  you  I" 

The  leader  now  conversed  in  a  low  tone  with  his  lieutenant. 
Some  new  design  seemed  to  have  been  devised  between  them — 
and  after  a  while,  the  former  again  addressed  us  ;  speaking  as 
before  in  Spanish. 

"  We  are  friends  1"  said  he:  "we  mean  you  no  harm.  Tc 
prove  it,  I  will  order  my  men  to  fall  back  upon  the  prairie,  while 
my  lieutenant,  unarmed,  will  meet  one  of  you  on  the  neutral 
ground.  Surely^  you  can  have  no  objection  to  that  ?" 

"  And  why  such  an  arrangement  ?"  inquired  Garey,  who  spoke 
Spanish  fluently.  "  We  want  nothing  of  you.  What  do  you 
want  from  us,  with  all  this  durn'd  fuss  ?" 

"  i  have  business  with  you,'7  replied  the  Mexican  ;  "and  you, 
sir,  in  particular.  I  have  something  to  say  to  you  I  don't  wish 
ethers  to  hear." 


180  THE   WAB-TRAIL. 

As  he  said  this,  the  speaker  turned  his  head,  and  nodded  signifi 
cantly  towards  his  own  following.  He  was  candid  with  th<-.m 
at  least. 

This  unexpected  dialogue  took  all  three  of  us  by  surprise. 
What  could  the  man  want  with  G-arey  ?  The  latter  knew  noth 
ing  of  him — had  never,  as  he  declared,  "sot  eyes  on  the  niggui 
before;"  although  at  such  a  distance — with  the  sun  in  his  face, 
and  the  Mexican's  sombrero  slouched  as  it  was — Garey  might 
be  mistaken.  It  might  be  some  one  whom  he  had  met,  though 
he  could  not  recall  him  to  mind. 

After  a  short  consultation,  we  agreed  that  Garey  should  ac 
cept  the  proposal.  No  evil  could  result  from  it — none  that  we 
could  think  of.  Garey  could  easily  get  back,  before  any  attack 
could  be  made  upon  him,  and  Rube  and  I  should  still  be  ready 
to  protect  him  with  our  pieces.  If  they  meditated  treachery, 
we  could  not  perceive  the  advantage  they  were  to  gain  from  the 
proceeding. 

The  "  parley  "  therefore  was  accepted,  and  the  conditions  ar 
ranged  with  due  caution  on  our  part.  The  horsemen — with  the 
exception  of  the  leader  and  his  lieutenant — were  to  ride  back  to 
the  distance  of  half  a  mile  ;  the  leader  was  to  remain  where  he 
was  ;  and  half-way  between  him  and  us,  Garey  and  the  lieuten 
ant  were  to  meet,  both  of  them  on  foot  and  unarmed. 

At  an  order  from  their  chief,  the  guerrilleros  fell  back.  The 
lieutenant  dismounted,  laid  his  lance  along  the  ground,  unbuckled 
his  sabre,  drew  the  pistols  from  his  belt,  and  placing  them  beside 
the  lance,  advanced  towards  the  appointed  spot. 

Garey  had  likewise  disarmed  himself;  and  leaving  his  weapons 
in  charge  of  Rube  and  myself,  stepped  forth  to  meet  the  Mexican. 
In  another  minute,  the  two  stood  face  to  face,  and  the  "parley" 
began. 

It  was  of  short  duration.  The  speaking,  which  appeared  to 
be  principally  done  by  the  Mexican,  was  carried  on  in  a  low  tone; 
an<l  Rube  and  I  saw  that  he  pointed  frequently  in  our  direction. 


A    DEAD    SHOT.  181 

as  if  we  were  the  subject  of  his  discourse  1  We  observed  that 
his  harangue  was  suddenly  interrupted  by  Garey,  who,  turning 
round  at  the  same  instant,  cried  out  to  us  in  English: 

"  Hillow,  Rube  !  what  do  yer  think  the  skunk  wants  ?" 

"  How  shed  I  know  ?"   replied  Rube.     "  What  do  >e  want  ?" 

"  Why,  he  wants  " — Garey's  voice  rose  louder  with  indigna 
tion — "he  wants  us  to  give  up  the  ranger-captain  ;  an  sez,  if  we 
do,  you  an  me  can  go  free.  Ha,  ha,  ha  1"  and  the  young  trap 
per  ended  his  announcement  with  a  scornful  laugh. 

Simultaneous  with  Garey's  laugh,  I  could  hear  Rube  utter  a 
low  whistle,  and  the  words  "thet's  how  the  stick  floats  ;"  and, 
then  raising  his  voice,  he  called  out: 

"  An  what  answer  hev  you  gin  him,  Billee  ?" 

"  I  hain't  answered  him  yet,"  was  the  prompt  reply  ;  "  but 
hyar's  the  answer  1" 

I  saw  Garey's  arm  raised,  with  his  huge  fist  clenched  ;  I  saw 
it  descend  like  a  trip-hammer  upon  the  face  of  the  Mexican,  who 
with  the  blow  fell  heavily  to  the  earth  ! 


CHAPTER    XXX11. 

A   DEAD  SHOT. 
* 

THE  unexpected  closing  of  the  conference  elicited  an  angry 
shout  from  the  Mexican  horsemen  ;  and,  without  waiting  for 
orders,  they  galloped  up  to  their  chief.  Halting  at  long  range, 
they  fired  their  carbines  and  escopettes  ;  but  their  bullets  cut 
the  grass  far  in  front  of  us,  and  one  or  two  that  hurtled  past, 
were  wide  of  the  mark. 

The  lieutenant,  who  had  been  only  stunned,  soon  recovered 
his  legs,  but  not  his  temper.  His  wrath  overbalanced  his  pra 


182  THE    WAE-TKAIL. 

deuce,  else  the  moment  he  found  his  feet,  he  would  liave  made 
the  best  of  his  way  to  his  horse  and  comrades.  Instead  of  do 
ing  so,  he  turned  full  front  towards  us,  raised  his  arm  in  the  air, 
shook  his  clenched  hand  in  a  menacing  manner,  accompanying  the 
action  with  a  torrent  of  defiant  speech.  Of  what  he  said,  we 
understood  but  the  concluding  phrase,  and  that  was  the  bitter 
and  blasphemous  carajo !  that  hissed  through  his  teeth  with  the 
energetic  aspiration  of  rage  and  revenge. 

That  oath  was  the  last  word  he  ever  uttered  ;  his  parting 
breath  scarcely  carried  it  from  his  lips,  ere  he  ceased  to  live.  I 
heard  the  fierce  word,  and  almost  simultaneously,  the  crack  of  a 
rifle,  fired  close  to  my  ear.  I  saw  the  dust  puff  out  from  the 
embroidered  spencer  of  the  Mexican,  and  directly  over  his  heart ; 
I  saw  his  hand  pass  rapidly  to  the  spot,  and  the  next  moment  he 
fell  forward  upon  his  face  ! 

Without  a  groan,  without  a  struggle,  he  lay  as  he  had  fallen, 
spread  dead  and  motionless  upon  the  prairie  ! 

"  Thur,  durn  yur  carako  1"  cried  a  voice  at  my  shoulder  ;  "ee 
won't  bid  for  me  agin,  ee  skunk — thet  ee  won't  1" 

I  needed  no  explanation,  thoqgh  I  turned  involuntarily  to  the 
speaker.  Of  course  it  was  Rube.  His  rifle  was  smoking  at  the 
muzzle,  and  he  was  proceeding  to  reload  it. 

"Wa-hoo — woop  I"  continued  he,  uttering  his  wild  war-cry  j 
"thet  shortens  thur  count,  I  reck'n.  Another  nick  for  Targuts  ! 
Gi'  me  her  for  a  gun.  Wagh  !  a  long  pull  it  wur  for  the  ole 
weepun  ;  and  the  glint  in  my  eyes  too  !  The  niggur  riled  me, 
or  I  wudn't  a  risked  it.  Hold  yur  bosses,  boys  !"  he  continued 
in  a  more  earnest  tone:  "don't  fire  till  I'm  loaded — for  yur  lives, 
don't  !" 

"  All  right,  Rube  I"  cried  Garey,  who  hastily  passing  under 
the  belly  of  his  horse,  had  re-entered  the  square,  and  once  more 
handled  his  rifle.  "  All  right,  old  boy  I  Ne'er  a  fear  !  we  '11 
wait  for  ye." 

Somewhat  to  our  surprise,  Rube  was  allowed  ample  time  to 


A   DEAD   SHOT.  183 

reload,  and  our  three  barrels  once  more  protruded  over  the 
shoulders  of  Garey's  horse.  Our  animals  still  held  their  respec 
tive  positions.  Three  of  them  were  too  well  used  to  such  scenes, 
to  be  startled  by  the  detonation  of  a  rifle  ;  and  the  fourth, 
fastened  as  he  was,  kept  his  place  perforce. 

I  say,  to  our  surprise,  we  were  allowed  time  to  get  into  our 
old  vantage-ground  ;  for  we  had  expected  an  immediate  charge 
from  the  guerrilla. 

Vengeance  for  the  death  of  their  comrade  would  give  them 
courage  enough  for  that  ;  so  thought  we  ;  but  we  were  mistaken, 
as  their  ire  only  vented  itself  in  fierce  yells,  violent  gestures,  and 
loud  cries. 

They  had  clustered  around  their  chief  without  order  or  forma 
tion.  They  seemed  to  pay  but  slight  regard  to  his  authority. 
Some  appeared  urging  him  to  lead  them  on  !  Some  came 
galloping  nearer,  and  fired  their  carbines  ;  others  shook  their 
lances  in  a  threatening  manner ;  but  one  and  all  were  careful  to 
keep  outside  that  perilous  circle,  whose  circumference  marked 
the  range  of  our  rifles.  They  seemed  even  less  inclined  for  close 
quarters  than  ever  ;  the  fate  of  their  comrade  had  awed  them. 

The  dead  man  lay  about  half-way  between  them  and  us,  glit 
tering  in  his  picturesque  habiliments.  They  were  .weaker  by  his 
loss,  for  not  only  had  he  been  one  of  their  leaders,  but  one  of 
their  best  men.  They  saw  he  was  dead,  though  none  had  dared 
to  approach  him  They  knew  the  Texan  rifle  of  old — these 
spangled  heroes  ;  they  saw,  moreover,  that  we  were  armed  with 
revolvers,  and  the  fame  of  this  terrible  weapon  had  been  already 
carried  beyond  the  frontier  of  the  Rio  Grande. 

Notwithstanding  all  that,  men  of  our  race,  under  similar  cir 
cumstances,  would  have  charged  without  hesitation.  So,  too, 
would  men  of  theirs,  three  centuries  ago. 

Perhaps  in  that  band  was  an  Alvarado,  a  Sandoval,  a  Diaz, 
or  Be  Soto  !  only  in  name.     O  Cortez  !  and  you  conquistadors 
could  ycu  behold  your  degenerate  descendants  ! 


184  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

And  yet  not  all  of  them  were  cowards  ;  some,  I  dare  say, 
were  brave  enough,  for  there  are  brave  men  among  the  Mexicans. 
A  few  were  evidently  willing  to  make  the  attack,  but  they 
wanted  combination — they  wanted  a  leader:  he  who  acted  as 
such  appeared  to  be  endowed  with  more  discretion  than  valor. 

Meanwhile,  we  kept  our  eyes  fixed  upon  them,  listening  to 
heir  varied  cries,  and  closely  watching  their  movements.  In 
perfect  coolness,  we  regarded  them — at  least  so  much  can  I  say 
for  my  comrades.  Though  life  or  death  rested  upon  the  issue, 
both  were  as  cool  at  that  moment  as  if  they  had  been  only  ob 
serving  the  movements  of  a  gang  of  buffaloes  !  There  was  no 
sign  of  trepidation — hardly  a  symptom  of  excitement  visible  in 
the  countenance  of  either.  Now  and  then,  a  half-muttered 
ejaculation,  a  rapid  exchange  of  thought,  relating  to  some  fresh 
movement  of  the  enemy,  alone  told  that  both  were  alive  to  the 
peril  of  the  situation. 

I  cannot  affirm  that  I  shared  with  them  this  extreme  and  per 
fect  sang  froid ;  though  upon  my  nerves,  less  indifferent  to 
danger,  their  example  had  its  effect,  and  inspired  me  with  courage 
sufficient  for  the  occasion.  Besides,  I  drew  confidence  from  an 
other  source.  In  case  of  defeat,  I  had  a  resource  unshared  by 
my  companions — perhaps  unthought  of  by  them.  Trusting  to 
the  matchless  speed  of  my  horse,  as  a  last  resort,  I  might  possi 
bly  escape.  I  could  have  ridden  off  at  that  moment  without 
fear  of  being  overtaken,  but  the  craven  thought  was  not  enter 
tained  for  an  instant.  By  my  honour,  no  !  I  should  have 
accepted  death  upon  the  spot  rather  than  desert  the  brave  men 
who  stood  by  my  side.  To  them  I  was  indebted  for  my  life. 
'Twas  for  me,  that  theirs  was  now  in  peril  ;  and  from  the  first 
moment  I  had  determined  to  stand  by  them  to  the  end,  and  sell 
my  blood  at  its  dearest.  In  the  event  of  both  falling  before  me, 
it  would  then  be  time  to  think  of  flight. 

Even  this  contingency  had  the  effect  of  strengthening  my 
courage,  and  at  that  moment  I  viewed  the  vengeful  foe  with  a 


A   DEAD    SHOT.  185 

eooli,;  <as  and  freedom  from  fear  that,  in  the  retrospect,  now  sur 
prise*  me. 

During  the  interval  of  inaction  that  followed,  I  was  cool  enough 
to  reflect  upon  the  demand  which  the  guerrilla  leader  had  made 
— the  surrender  of  my  person.  Why  was  /  singled  out  ?  We 
were  all  enemies  alike — all  Americans  or  Texans — on  Mexican 
soil,  and  armed  for  strife.  Why  did  they  want  me  alone  ?  Was 
it  because  I  was  superior  in  rank  to  my  companions  ?  But  how 
knew  they  this  ? — how  knew  they  I  was  a  "ranger  captain  ?" 
Ha  !  they  must  have  known  it  before  ;  they  must  have  conic 
out  specially  in  search  of  me  ! 

A  light  flashed  suddenly  into  my  mind — a  suspicion  strong 
almost  as  certainty.  But  for  the  sun  glancing  in  my  eyes,  I  might 
have  earlier  obtained  an  explanation  of  the  mystery.  I  drew 
down  the  visor  of  my  forage-cap,  stretching  it  to  its  full  extent; 
I  increased  the  shade  with  my  flattened  palms,  and  from  under 
them  strained  my  eyes  upon  the  leader  of  the  band.  Already 
his  voice,  while  in  conversation  with  Garey,  had  aroused  a  faint 
recollection  within  me.  I  had  heard  that  voice  only  once,  but  I 
thought  I  remembered  ifc.  Guided  by  my  suspicion,  I  now 
scrutinized  more  closely  the  face  of  the  man.  Fortunately,  it 
was  turned  towards  me,  and  despite  the  dazzling  of  the  sunbeam, 
despite  the  slouched  sombrero,  I  recognized  the  dark  features 
of  Rafael  Ijurra  1  Iii  that  glance  I  comprehended  the  situa 
tion.  He  it  was  who  wanted  the  "  ranger  captain  !" 

There  was  doubt  no  longer.  My  suspicion  was  a  certainty; 
but  with  the  next  throb  of  my  heart  rose  another,  a  thousand 
times  more  painful — a  suspicion  of 

With  an  effort,  I  stifled  my  emotions  ;  a  movement  was  pre- 
eeptible  among  the  guerrilleros  ;  the  moment  of  action  had 
arrived  1 


1S6  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 

A  RUNNING-SHOT. 

THOUGH  our  enemy  was  once  more  in  motion,  we  no  longer 
anticipated  a  direct  attact ;  the  time  for  that  had  passed.  The 
fate  of  their  comrade  had  evidently  checked  their  ardor,  and 
too  much  shouting  and  bravado  had  cooled,  rather  than  height 
ened,  their  enthusiasm.  We  could  tell  by  their  manoeuvring 
that  some  new  mode  of  assault  had  been  planned,  and  was  about 
to  be  practised. 

"  Cowardly  skunks!"  muttered  Rube  ;  "  they  hain't  the  pluck 
to  charge  us  !  Who  ever  heerd  o'  fair  fight  in  a  Mexikin  ? 
Wagh  !  Thur  arter  some  trick,"  he  continued,  in  a  more  serious 
tone.  "  What  do  'ee  think  it  be,  Billee  ?" 

"  I'm  thinkin,  old  boy,"  replied  Garey,  whose  keen  grey  eye 
had  been  for  some  time  fixed  on  the  movements  of  the  guerrilla 
— "  I'm  thinkin  thar  a  goin  to  gallup  roun,  an  try  a  shot  at  us 
Injun  fashion." 

"  Yur  right,'1  assented  Rube  ;  "thet's  thur  game  !  Scalp  me 
ef  'taint  1  Look  yander  ! — thur  they  go  !" 

The  horsemen  were  no  longer  in  line,  nor  formed  in  any  fash 
ion.  Irregularly  grouped,  they  exhibited  a  "clump"  upon  the 
prairie,  some  standing  still,  others  in  motion.  As  Rube  uttered 
the  last  words,  one  of  them  was  seen  to  shoot  out  from  the  main 
body,  spurring  his  steed  into  a  gallop  as  he  parted  from  the 
crowd. 

One  might  have  fancied  he  was  about  to  ride  off  from  the 
g*>and:  but  no;  that  was  not  his  intention.  When  he  had  made 


A    RUNNING    SHOT.  187 

half-a-dozen  stretches  over  the  plain,  he  guided  his  horse  into  a 
curve,  evidently  with  the  design  of  riding  around  us. 

As  soon  as  he  had  gained  some  score  of  yards  from  the  troop, 
a  second  horseman  followed,  repeating  the  manoeuvre  ;  and  then 
another  and  another,  until  five  of  the  band,  thus  deployed,  gal 
loped  round  us  in  circles.  The  remaining  six  kept  their  ground. 

We  observed  that  the  five  had  left  their  lances  behind  them, 
and  carried  only  their  carbines. 

We  were  not  astonished  at  this  :  we  divined  the  intention  of 
our  enemies.  They  were  about  to  practise  an  old  prairie-tactic 
— a  stratagem  of  the  horse-Indians,  with  which  all  three  of  us 
were  familiar. 

We  might  have  been  more  apprehensive  about  the  result  had 
it  been  really  Indians  who  were  going  to  practise  the  manoeuvre 
— since  in  an  attack  of  this  kind,  the  bow,  with  its  m;my  missiles 
in  a  minute,  is  far  more  dangerous  than  either  carbine  or  rifle. 
But  the  fact  that  our  assailants  understood  the  stratagem  told 
us  we  were  opposed  to  men  who  had  seen  Indian-fight — no  doubt, 
the  pick  men  of  the  frontier — and  to  defend  ourselves  would 
require  all  the  courage  and  cunning  we  possessed. 

It  did  not  surprise  us  that  only  a  portion  of  the  band  gallop 
ed  out  to  effect  the  surround  ;  there  was  design  in  that,  and  we 
knew  it.  The  fiye  who  had  been  detached  were  to  wheel  round 
us  in  circles,  dash  at  intervals  within  range,  fire  their  carbines, 
kill  some  of  our  horses,  keep  us  distracted,  and,  if  possible,  draw 
the  fire  of  our  rifles.  This  purpose  effected,  the  other  six — who 
already  approached  as  near  as  was  safe  for  them — would  charge 
forward,  empty  their  guns,  and  then  use  their  lazoes  with  effect. 

Of  this  last  weapon  my  companions  had  more  dread  than  of 
all  the  others  carried  by  our  foes.  They  had  reason.  They 
knew  that  our  rifles  once  empty,  the  lazo  could  be  used  beyond 
pistol-range  ;  and  by  such  men,  with  far  surer  aim  than  either 
carbine  or  escopette  ! 

Wft  were  allowed  but  scant  time  to  entertain  these  doubts, 


188  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

fears,  and  conjectures,  or  to  communicate  them  to  one  another 
They  passed  before  us  like  the  lightning's  flash  :  the  qaickei 
that  they  were  old  thoughts — tilings  familiar  from  experience 
We  were  conscious  that  the  stratagem  of  our  enemy  had  increas 
ed  the  peril  of  our  situation  ;  but  we  thought  not  yet  of  yielding 
to  despair. 

In  an  instant  we  had  altered  our  relative  positions.  The  three 
of  us  no  longer  fronted  in  one  direction,  but  stood  back  to  back 
— each  to  guard  the  third  of  the  circle  before  his  face.  Thus 
stood  we,  rifles  in  hand. 

The  five  horsemen  were  not  slow  in  the  execution  of  their 
manoeuvre.  Once  or  twice  they  galloped  round  us  in  a  wide 
circle  ;  and  then  following  a  spiral  curve,  drew  nearer  and 
nearer.  When  within  carbine  range,  each  fired  his  piece  ;  and, 
retreating  outwards  upon  the  main  body,  hastily  exchanged  his 
empty  gun  for  one  that  was  loaded,  and  galloped  back  as  before. 

In  the  first  volley,  most  of  their  bullets,  discharged  at  random, 
had  passed  over  our  heads.  We  heard  them  hissing  in  the  air 
high  above  us.  One,  however,  had  been  better  aimed,  and  struck 
Rube's  mare  in  the  hip,  causing  the  old  mustang  to  squeal  and 
kick  violently.  It  did  but  little  damage,  though  it  was  an 
earnest  of  what  we  might  expect  ;  and  it  was  with  increased 
apprehension  that  we  saw  the  horsemen  come  back  on  their  cir 
cling  career. 

You  will  wonder  why  we  did  not  return  their  fire  ?     Our  guns 

carried  as  far  as  theirs.     Why  did  we  not  use  them,  while  the 

horsemen   were   within    range  ?     Not   one  of  the   three  of  us 

thought  of  drawing  a  trigger  !     You  will  wonder  at  this  ?     It 

equires  explanation. 

Know,  then,  that  the  five  men  who  galloped  round  us  were 
five  of  the  best  horsemen  in  the  world — no  doubt  the  picked 
riders  of  the  band.  Not  in  Arabia,  riot  in  the  hippodromes  of 
Paris  or  London,  could  they  have  found  their  superiors — perhaps 
not  their  equals,  for  these  men  literally  lived  '  *  the  saddle.  EacU; 


.A    RUNNING   SHOT.  189 

ac  he  approached  the  dangerous  circle  covered  by  our  rifles,  dis 
appeared  lehi^G  th?.  lod'y  of  his  horse.  A  boot  and  spur  over  the 
hollow  of  the  deep  saddle-tree,  perhaps  a  hand  grasping  the 
cither-lock  ox  the  horst,  were  all  of  the  rider  that  could  be  seen. 
Presently  a  face  might  be  observed,  suddenly  veiled  by  a  puff  of 
smoke  from  the  carbine,  and  then  ducked  instantly  out  of  sight. 
Perhaps  the  barrel  of  the  piece  might  be  noticed  glancing  along 
the  horse's  counter,  while  the  stream  of  fire  pouring  forth,  told 
that  the  rider  had  taken  aim  under  the  throat  of  his  steed,  the 
latter  all  the  while  going  at  full  gallop. 

During  these  manoeuvres,  sharp  shots  as  my  comrades  were, 
and  fair  marksman  as  I  was  myself,  there  was  no  instant  when 
we  could  have  hit  any  one  of  the  five  horsemen.  It  would  have 
been  easier  to  have  brought  down  a  bird  upon  the  wing.  Their 
horses  we  might  have  killed  or  crippled,  but  that  would  not  have 
repaid  us  for  the  risk  of  an  empty  rifle.  We  dared  not  wa«ste  a 
bullet  on  the  horses.  This,  then,  was  our  reason  for  reserving 
our  fire. 

Do  not  fancy  from  this  my  prolixity  of  explanation,  that  we 
were  so  slow  in  comprehending  all  this.  No,  we  understood  oui 
situation  well  enough  ;  we  knew  that  to  discharge  our  pieces — 
even  though  a  horse  should  fall  to  every  shot — was  just  wha' 
the  enemy  desired.  That  was  the  main  point  of  their  ruse;  but 
we  were  too  well  used  to  the  wiles  of  Indian  warfare  to  be  be 
guiled  by  so  shallow  an  artifice.  Words  of  caution  passed  be 
tween  us,  and  we  stood  to  our  guns  with  as  much  patience  as  we 
could  command. 

It  was  tempting  enough — provoking,  I  should  rather  say — 
thus  to  be  fired  at,  without  the  c\mnce  of  returning  it  ;  and  my 
companions,  notwithstanding  their  habitual  coolness,  chafed 
angrily  under  the  infliction. 

Once  more  the  five  horsemen  came  galloping  around  us,  and 
discharged  their  pieces  as  before;  but  this  time  with  more  effect. 
A  bullet  struck  Garey  in  the  shoulder,  tearing  away  a  patch  of 


190  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

his  hunting-shirt,  and  drawing  the  blood  ;  while  another  veu« 
whizzing  past  the  cheek  of  Old  Rube,  creasing  his  catskin  cap  1 

"  Hooray  !"  shouted  the  latter,  clapping  his  hand  over  the 
place  where  the  lead  had  wounded  him.  *'  Clost  enough  thet 
wur  !  Cuss  me,  eft  hain't  carried  away  one  o'  my  ears  I" 

And  the  old  trapper  accompanied  the  remark  with  a  wild, 
reckless  laugh.  The  rent  of  the  bullet,  and  the  blood  upon  Gar- 
ey's  shoulder,  now  fell  under  his  eye,  and  suddenly  changing 
countenance,  he  exclaimed  ; 

"  By  the  tarnal  !  yur  hit,  Bill  ?     Speak,  boyee  ?" 

"  It's  nothin,"  promptly  replied  Garey — "  nothin  ;  only  a 
grease.  I  don't  feel  it." 

"  Yur  sure  ?" 

"  Sartiu  sure." 

"  By  the  livin  catamount !"  exclaimed  Rube,  in  a  serious  tone, 
"we  can't  stan^this  no  longer.  What's  to  be  done,  Billee  ? 
Think,  boy!" 

"We  must  make  a  burst  for  it,"  replied  Garey;  "it's  our 
only  chance." 

"  Tur  no  use,"  said  Rube,  with  a  doubtful  shake  of  the  head. 
"  The  young  fellur  mout  git  clur  ;  but  for  you'n  me  thur's  not 
the  shaddy  o'  a  chance.  They'd  catch  up  wi'  the  ole  mar  in  the 
flappin  o'  a  beaver's  tail,  an  yur  hoss  ain't  none  o'  the  sooplest. 
Tur  no  use." 

4<  I  tell  you  it  are,  Rube,"  replied  Garey  impatiently.  "  Yon 
mount  the  white  hoss — he's  fast  enough — and  let  the  mar  slide; 
or  you  take  mine,  an  I'll  back  whitey.  We  mayent  get  clar  al 
together  ;  but  we'll  string  the  niggers  out  on  the  parairy,  an  take 
them  one  arter  another.  It's  better  than  stannin  hyar  to  be  shot 
down  like  buffler  in  a  pen.  What  do  you  think,  capt'n  ?"  add 
ed  he,  addressing  himself  to  me. 

Just  then  an  idea  had  occurred  to  me.  "  Why  not  gallop 
to  the  cliff?"  I  inquired,  looking  toward  the  mesa:  "thy  can't 
surround  us  there  ?  With  our  backs  to  the  rock,  and  our  horses 


A   RUNNING    SHOT.  191 

in  front  of  us,  we  may  defy  the  rabble.     We  might  easily  reach 
it  by  a  dash  " 

"  Scalp  me  !  ef  the  young  fellur  ain't  right,"  cried  Rube,  in- 
terrupting  my  speech.  "  It  's  the  very  idee,  plum  centre  !" 

"It  are!"  echoed  Garey — "it  are!  We  hain't  a  second  to 
lose  ;  they'll  be  round  us  again  in  a  squull's  jump.  Look  yon 
der  r 

This  conversation  had  occupied  but  a  few  seconds  of  time.  It 
occurred  just  after  the  five  horsemen  had  the  second  time  emptied 
their  guns,  and  galloped  back  to  exchange  them.  Before  they 
could  return  to  deliver  a  third  fire,  our  determination  was  taken, 
and  we  had  hastily  undone  the  fastenings  of  our  horses,  and 
were  ready  to  mount.  This  we  accomplished  so  quietly,  that  it 
was  evident  the  enemy  had  not  perceived  us,  and  therefore  en 
tertained  no  suspicion  of  our  design ;  hence  the  road  towards  the 
mesa  was  still  perfectly  open  to  us.  In  another  minute,  however, 
the  five  riders  would  have  been  circling  around  us,  and  that 
would  have  naturally  altered  our  situation. 

"  Hurry,  Rube  !"  cried  Garey — "  hurry,  man,  and  le's  be  off  !" 

"  Keep  cool,  Billee,"  rejoined  Rube,  who  was  adjusting  the 
bridle  of  Garey's  horse.  "  Plenty  o'  time,  I  tell  ee;  they  ain't  a 
comin  yit.  Ho-hoo  !  ole  gal!"  he  continued,  addressing  himself 
to  the  mare — "  ho-hoo  !  we're  a  gwine  to  leave  you  ahint  a  bit, 
out  I  reck'n  yo'll  turn  up  agin.  They  won't  eat  ye,  anyhow  ;  so 
don't  be  skeart  about  thet,  ole  gal  !  Now,  Billee,  I'm  ready." 

It  was  time,  for  the  riders  were  again  spurring  forward  to 
surround  us. 

Without  waiting  to  observe  further,  we  all  three  leaped  simul 
taneously  on  horseback;  and,  plying  the  spur  deeply,  shot  off  in 
a  direct  line  for  the  mesa. 

A  glance  behind  showed  us  the  guerrilleros — the  whole  band 
coming  in  full  tilt  after  us,  while  their  cries  sounded  in  our  ears. 
To  our  satisfaction,  we  saw  we  had  gained  ground  upon  them — 
our  sudden  start  having  taken  them  by  surprise,  and  produced 


192  THE    WAR-TRATL. 

in  their  ranks  a  momentary  hesitauon.  We  had  no  fear  of  being 
able  to  reach  the  mesa  before  they  could  overtake  us. 

For  my  own  part,  I  could  soon  have  ridden  out  of  sight  alto 
gether  ;  so  could  Garey,  mounted  on  the  white  steed,  that,  with 
only  a  raw-hide  halter,  was  behaving  splendidly.  It  was  Garey 's 
own  horse,  a  strong  but  slow  brute,  that  delayed  us;  he  was 
ridden  by  Rube  ;  and  it  was  well  the  chase  was  not  to  be  a  long 
one,  else  our  pursuers  would  have  easily  overhauled  him.  Garey 
and  I  kept  by  his  side. 

<(  Don't  be  afeerd,  Rube  I"  shouted  Garey,  in  a  tone  of  en 
couragement  ;  "  we  ain't  a  goin  to  leave  you — we'll  stick  the- 
gither  !" 

"  Yes,"  added  I,  in  the  excitement  of  the  moment,  "  we  live  or 
die  together  !" 

"  Hooray,  young  fellur  I"  cried  Rube,  in  a  burst  of  wild  grati 
tude — "  hooray  for  you  !  I  know  yur  the  stuff,  an  won't  leave 
me  ahint,  though  1  gin  you  the  slip  oncest — when  you  mistuk  me 
for  the  grizzly.  He,  he,  hoo  !  But  then,  you  see  twur  no  use 
o'  my  stickin  to  you — ne'er  a  bit  o'  good.  Wagh  *  them  niggurs 
nr  gettin  nigher  1" 

We  were  riding  directly  for  the  middle  of  the  mesa,  whose 
cliff,  like  a  vast  wall,  rose  up  from  the  level  plain.  We  headed 
for  its  central  part,  as  though  we  expected  some  gate  to  open  in 
the  rock  and  give  us  shelter  ! 

Shouts  of  astonishment  could  be  heard  mingling  with  the  hoof- 
strokes.  Some  of  the  expressions  we  heard  distinctly.  "  Whith 
er  go  they  ?"  "  Vaya !  do  they  intend  to  ride  up  the  cliff  ?" 
41  Carrambo !  van  en  la  trampa  f  (Good  !  they  are  going  into 
the  trap  !) 

Shouts  of  exultation  followed,  as  they  saw  us  thus  voluntarily 
placing  ourselves  in  a  position  from  which  retreat  appeared  im 
possible. 

They  had  been  apprehensive,  on  our  first  galloping  off,  that  we 
might  be  mounted  on  swift  horses,  and  meditated  escaping  bj 


193 

speed  ;  bat  on  discovering  that  this  was  not  our  intention,  cries 
of  joyful  import  were  heard  ;  and  as  we  approached  the  cliff,  we 
saw  them  deploying  behind  us,  with  the  design  of  hemming  us  in. 
It  was  just  the  movement  we  had  anticipated,  and  the  very  thing 
we  wished  them  to  do. 

We  galloped  up  close  to  the  rocky  wall  before  drawing  bridle ; 
then,  suddenly  flinging  ourselves  to  the  ground,  we  placed  our 
backs  to  the  cliff,  drew  our  horses  in  front  of  us,  and  holding  the 
bridles  in  our  teeth,  raised  our  rifles  towards  the  foe.  Once 
more  the  three  shinning  tubes  were  levelled,  promising  certaia 
death  to  the  first  who  should  approach  within  range. 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

RUBE'S    CHARGER. 

OUR  att^ude  of  defence,  thus  suddenly  assumed,  produced  a 
quick  effect  upon  our  pursuers,  who  pulled  up  simultaneously  on 
the  prairie.  Some  who  had  been  foremost,  and  who  fancied  they 
had  ridden  too  near,  wheeled  round  and  galloped  back. 

"  Wagh  I"  ejaculated  Rube  ;  "jest  look  at  >em  !  they've  tuk 
care  to  put  plenty  o'  paraira  atween  our  guns  and  thur  cowardly 
karkidges.  Wagh  V* 

We  at  once  perceived  the  advantage  of  our  new  position.  We 
could  all  three  show  front  wherever  the  enemy  threatened. 
There  was  no  longer  any  danger  of  their  practising  the  surround. 
The  half-circle  behind  us  was  covered  by  the  mesa,  and  that 
could  not  be  scaled.  We  had  only  to  guard  the  semicircle  in 
front — in  fact,  less  than  a  semicircle,  for  we  now  perceived  that 
the  place  was  embayed,  a  sort  of  re-entering  angle  formed  by  two 
oblique  faces  of  the  cliff.  The  walls  that  flanked  it  extended 

9 


194:  THE    WAK-TKAIL. 

tnree  hundred  yards  on  either  side,  so  that  no  cover  commanded 
our  position.  For  defence,  we  could  not  have  chosen  a  better 
situation  ;  gallop  round  as  they  might,  the  guerrilleros  would  al 
ways  find  us  with  our  teeth  towards  them  !  We  saw  our  ad* 
vantage  at  a  glance. 

Neither  were  our  enemies  slow  to  perceive  it,  and  their  exult 
ing  shouts  changed  to  exclamation  that  betokened  their  disap 
pointment. 

Almost  as  suddenly,  their  tone  again  enanged,  and  cries  ot 
triumph  once  more  rose  along  their  line. 

We  looked  forth  to  discover  the  cause.  To  our  dismay,  we 
perceived  a  reinforcement  just  joining  them  !  Five  fresh  horse 
men  were  riding  up,  evidently  a  portion  of  the  band.  They 
appeared  to  have  come  from  behind  the  mesa — from  the  direction 
of  the  rancheria — though,  as  we  galloped  forward,  we  had  not 
observed  them  :  the  mound  had  concealed  them  from  our  view. 
Notwithstanding  this  accession  to  their  strength,  their  courage 
did  not  appear  to  gain  by  it. 

Almost  on  the  instant  that  their  new  allies  arrived  upon  the 
ground,  the  troop  filed  of  by  twos,  and  deployed  across  the  mouth 
of  the  little  bay  in  which  we  had  taken  shelter.  The  movement 
was  soon  completed,  and  six  pair  of  them  were  now  ranged  be 
fore  us  at  equal  distances  from  each  other.  The  remaining  three 
— Ijurra  and  two  others — kept  their  places  directly  in  front  of 
us.  In  one  of  the  latter  I  recognized  a  ruffian  whom  I  had  fre 
quently  noticed  at  the  ranchera.  He  was  a  man  of  large  size, 
and,  what  is  rare  among  Mexicans,  red  haired  ;  but  I  believe  he 
was  a  Vizcaino.  He  was  familiarly  known  by  the  sobriquet  of 
El  Zorro  /the  Fox),  probably  on  account  of  the  hue  of  his  hair; 
and  I  had  heard  from  good  authority — that  of  the  alcalde  himself ' 
— that  the  fellow  was  neither  more  nor  less  than  a  salttador. 
Indeed,  El  Zorro  made  little  secret  of  his  calling.  The  brigand 
of  Mexico  is  usually  well-known  to  his  countrymen.  During 
his  intervals  of  leisure,  he  appears  in  the  populous  town,  walks 


195 

boldly  through  the  streets,  and  freely  mingles  in  society.     Sucl 
was  El  Zorro,  one  of  the  right-hand  me«  of  Ijurra. 

The  design  of  our  enemy  was  now  manifest :  they  had  no  inten 
tion  of  making  an  immediate  attack  upon  us;  they  saw  that  our 
retreat  was  impossible,  and  had  resolved  to  hold  us  in  siege, 
perhaps  till  thirst  and  hunger  should  force  us  to  surrender. 

Their  calculation  was  founded  on  probability.  If  their  valour 
was  weak,  their  cunning  was  strong  and  subtile. 

Rube  was  now  greatly  "  out  of  sorts."  When  he  saw  the 
guerrilleros  "  fixing"  themselves  in  the  manner  described,  he 
seemed  to  regret  that  we  had  taken  our  stand  there. 

"  We'er  hyur  !"  he  exclaimed  peevishly,  "  an  how  ar  we  to  git 
clur  agin  ?  Scalp  me,  Bill  I  ef  we  hedn't  better  a  fit  'em  on  the 
paraira,  an  afore  we  gits  weak  wi'  hunger.  Wagh  1  I  kud  eat  a 
griskin  now,  an  a  good  chunk  o'  a  one.  Ay,  smoke  away  !" 
(some  of  the  Mexicans  had  lighted  their  cigars,  and  were  coolly 
puffing  at  them) — "  smoke  away,  durn  yur  I  yur  yeller-skinned 
skunks  !  I'll  make  some  o'  ye  smoke  afore  inornin,  or  my  name 
ain't  Rube Rawlius.  Gi's  a  bit  o'  bacca,  Bill  ;  maybe  it'll  take 
the  edge  off  o'  my  sturnmuk.  Wagh  !  I  feel  as  holler  about  the 
kidneys  as  my  ole  mar' Geehosophat  I  See  the  mar  ?" 

The  emphatic  utterance  of  the  last  words  caused  Garey  and 
myself  to  look  towards  the  speaker,  and  then  in  the  direction  in 
which  he  pointed.  A  scene  came  before  our  eyes,  that,  spite  the 
depression  of  our  spirits,  caused  both  of  us  to  break  into  loud 
laughter. 

The  "  ole  mar,"  that  for  many  long  years  had  carried  Rube 
07er  the  mountains  and  prairies,  was  a  creature  that  scarce 
yielded  to  himself  in  peculiarity. 

She  was  a  lank,  bare-ribbed,  high-boned  animal,  long-eared 
like  all  of  her  race,  for  she  belonged  to  the  race  of  Rosinante, 
The  long  ears  caused  her  to  look  mulish,  and  at  a  distance  she 
might  have  been  mistaken  for  a  mixed  breed  ;  but  it  was  not  so 
— she  was  a  true  mustang,  and,  spite  of  her  degenerate  look,  a 


J90  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

pure  Andaltisian.  She  seemed  to  have*  been,  at  an  earlier  period 
of  her  life,  of  that  dull  yellowish  colour  known  as  "  clay  bank" — 
a  common  hue  among  Mexican  horses ;  but  time  and  scars  had 
metamorphosed  hex,  and  gray  hairs  predominated,  particularly 
about  the  head  and  neck.  These  parts  were  covered  with  a  dirty 
grizzle  of  mixed  colour.  She  was  badly  wind-broken,  and  at 
stated  intervals,  of  several  minutes  each,  her  back,  from  the 
spasmodic  action  of  the  lungs,  heaved  up  with  a  jerk,  as  though 
she  was  trying  to  kick,  and  couldn't.  Her  body  was  as  thin  as 
a  rail,  and  her  head  habitually  carried  below  the  level  of  her 
shoulders  ;  but  there  was  something  in  the  twinkle  of  her  soli 
tary  eye — for  she  had  but  one — that  told  you  she  had  no  inten 
tion  of  giving  up  for  a  long  time  to  come.  As  Rube  often 
alleged,  "  she  was  game  to  the  backbone. 

Such  was  the  "ole  mar,"  audit  was  to  her  that  our  attention 
was  now  so  suddenly  called. 

Having  parted  from  her  on  the  prairie,  in  the  wild  gallop  that 
followed,  we  had  thought  no  more  of  the  creature,  not  caring — 
that  is,  Garey  and  myself — what  became  of  her.  Rube,  how 
ever,  was  far  from  sharing  our  indifference  as  to  her  fate.  He 
would  almost  as  soon  have  parted  with  one  of  his  "claws"  as 
that  same  faithful  companion,  and  we  had  heard  him  expressing 
his  hopes  that  no  harm  would  come  to  her. 

Of  course,  we  had  concluded  that  she  would  either  be  shot  or 
lazoed  by  one  of  the  guerrilleros.  It  appeared,  however,  that 
this  was  not  to  be  her  fate  just  then.  Resolving  not  to  be 
parted  from  her  master  so  easily,  she  had  galloped  after  ns.  Be 
ing  slow,  she  soon  fell  behind,  and  for  a  while  was  mixed  up  wirh 
the  horses  of  the  guerrilleros.  Of  course  the  men  had  noticed 
her,  but  seeing  that  she  was  a  worthless  brute,  had  not  deigned 
to  make  a  capture  of  her. 

In  due  time  she  fell  into  the  rear  of  the  whole  troop  ;  but  even 
that  did  not  turn  her  from  her  original  intention,  and  at  the 
moment  of  Rube's  exclamation,  she  was  jest  breaking  through 


EUBE'S  CHAKGEK.  197 

the  line  of  deployment  on  her  way  to  join  him.  From  the  man* 
ner  in  which  her  nose  was  held  as  she  ran,  she  appeared  to  be 
trailing  him  by  the  scent. 

Seeing  her  pass,  one  of  the  guerrilleros  dashed  after  to  capture 
her  ;  perhaps  because  there  was  an  old  saddle  with  some  of 
Rube's  traps  buckled  upon  it.  Mare,  saddle,  and  all,  were 
scarcely  worth  the  fling  of  a  lazo,  and  so  the  man  appeared  to 
think;  for  instead  of  using  his  lazo,  he  rode  forward  with  the  in 
tention  of  seizing  the  mare  by  the  bridle. 

The  feat  proved  not  so  easy  of  accomplishment.  As  the  fel 
low  bent  down  to  grasp  the  rein,  the  old  mare  uttered  one  of 
her  wild  squeals,  slewed  her  hind-quarters  about,  and  raising  her 
beels  high  in  the  air,  delivered  them  right  upon  the  ribs  of  the 
Mexican.  The  heavy  "  thud"  was  heard  by  all  of  us  ;  and  the 
man  swayed  from  his  saddle,  and  fell  to  the  ground — to  all  ap 
pearance  badly  hurt,  and  most  probably  with  a  pair  of  broken 
ribs. 

The  squeal  of  the  mare  was  echoed  by  a  shrill  laugh  from  the 
throat  of  her  delighted  master  ;  and  not  until  she  had  galloped 
up  to  him,  did  he  cease  to  made  the  rocks  ring  with  his  wild 
eachinnations. 

"  Wa-hoo — woop  !  yur  thur,  ole  gal  I"  he  shouted  as  the  ani 
mal  halted  before  him,  "  You  gin  'im  a  sockdolloger — you  did. 
Yeeup  !  ole  blueskin  !  yur  welkum  back  !  an  ye've  fetched  my 
saddle  too  !  Hooray  !  Ain't  she  a  beauty,  Bill  ?  She's  wuth 
her  weight  in  beaver-plew.  Wagh  1  that  'ee  ur,  ole  beeswax ! 
Kum  hyur  this  away — thur  now  !" 

And  the  speaker  proceeded,  after  some  more  apostrophizing, 
to  draw  the  animal  closer  up  to  the  cliff,  placing  her  body  as  an 
additional  barricade  in  front  of  his  own. 

Our  involuntary  mirth  was  of  short  duration  ;  it  was  interrupt 
ed  by  an  object  that  filled  our  hearts  with  new  apprehension. 


198  *  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 


CHAPTER      XXXV. 

EL     ZORRO 

THE  new  object  of  dread  was  a  large  gun,  which  Lad  been 
brought  upon  the  ground  by  one  of  those  lately  arrived.  In  all 
probability,  it  belonged  to  El  Zorro,  as  it  was  in  his  hands  we 
first  observed  it.  It  appeared  to  be  a  long  musket,  or  elephant- 
gun,  such  as  the  "  rcers  "  in  use  among  South  African  hunters. 
Whatever  sort  of  weapon  it  was,  we  soon  found,  to  our  annoyance, 
that  it  pitched  an  ounce  of  lead  nearly  twice  as  far  as  any  of  our 
rifles,  and  with  sufficient  precision  to  make  it  probable  that,  be 
fore  the  sun  had  set,  El  Zorro  would  be  able  to  pick  off  our 
horses,  and  perhaps  ourselves,  in  detail.  It  would  be  half  an 
hour  before  darkness  could  screen  us  with  its  friendly  shelter, 
and  he  had  already  commenced  practice.  His  first  shot  had 
been  fired.  The  bullet  struck  the  cliff  close  to  my  own  head, 
scattering  the  fragments  of  gypsum  rock  about  my  ears,  and 
then  fell,  flattened  like  a  Spanish  dollar,  at  my  feet. 

The  report  was  far  louder  than  that  of  either  carbine  or  es- 
copette  ;  and  an  ejaculation  from  Rube,  as  he  saw  the  effect  of 
the  shot,  followed  by  his  usual  ominous  whistle,  told  that  the 
old  trapper  was  not  disposed  to  make  light  of  this  new  piece  of 
ordnance.  Neither  was  Garey.  His  look  testified  to  what  all 
three  of  us  were  thinking — which  was,  that  this  mode  of  attack 
was  likely  to  put  us  in  a  more  awkward  dilemma  than  we  had 
yet  been  placed  in.  El  Zorro  might  shoot  us  down  at  his  leisure. 
With  our  rifles,  we  could  neither  answer  his  fire,  nor  silence  it 
Our  peril  was  obvious. 

The  salteador  had  delivered  his  first  shot  "  off  hand,"  for  we 


EL   ZORRO.  199 

had  seen  him  level  the  piece.  Perhaps  it  was  fortunate  for  us 
he  had  not  taken  aim  over  a  "  lean  ;"  but  fortune  from  that 
source  was  not  going  to  favour  us  any  farther  •,  for  we  now  ob 
served  Ijurra  stick  two  lances  obliq-uely  in  the  ground,  so  as  to 
cross  each  other  at  a  proper  height,  thus  forming  as  perfect  a 
rest  as  marksman  could  have  desired. 

As  soon  as  the  gun  was  reloaded,  El  Zorro  knelt  behind  the 
lances,  placed  his  barrel  in  the  fork,  and  once  more  took  aim. 

I  felt  satisfied  he  was  aiming  at  me,  or  my  horse.  Indeed,  the 
direction  of  the  long  dark  tube  would  have  told  me  so;  but  I  saw 
Ijurra  directing  him,  and  that  made  me  sure  of  it.  I  had  little 
fear  for  myself.  I  was  sheltered  sufficiently,  but  I  trembled  for 
the  brave  horse  that  shielded  me. 

I  waited  with  anxious  heart.  I  saw  the  blaze  of  the  priming 
as  it  puffed  upward  ;  the  red  flame  projected  from  the  muzzle, 
and  simultaneously  I  felt  the  shock  of  the  heavy  bullet  striking 
upon  my  horse.  Splinters  of  wood  flew  about  my  face  ;  they 
were  fragments  of  the  saddle-tree.  The  ball  had  passed  through 
the  pommel,  but  my  noble  steed  was  untouched  !  It  was  a  close 
shotj  however — too  close  to  allow  of  rejoicing,  so  long  as  others 
of  the  like  were  to  follow. 

I  was  getting  as  " riled"  as  Rube  himself,  when,  all  at  once, 
a  significant  shout  from  the  old  trapper  drew  my  attention  from 
El  Zorro  and  his  gun.  Rube  was  on  my  right,  and  I  saw  that 
he  was  pointing  along  the  bottom  of  the  cliff  to  some  object  in 
that  direction.  I  could  not  see  what  it  was,  as  his  horses  were 
in  the  way  ;  but  the  next  moment  I  observed  him  hurrying  them 
*>,iong  the  cliff,  at  the  same  time  calling  to  Garey  and  myself  to 
follow. 

I  lost  no  time  in  putting  my  horse  in  motion,  and  Garey  an 
hastily  trotted  after. 

We  had  not  advanced  many  paces  before  we  comprehended 
the  strange  behaviour  of  our  companion. 

Scarcely  twenty  yards  from  where  we  had  first  baited,  a  large 


200  THE   WAB-TBAIL. 

rock  rested  upon  the  plain.  It  was  a  fragment  that  had  fallen 
from  the  cliff,  and  was  now  lying  several  feet  from  its  base  ;  it 
was  of  such  size,  and  in  such  a  position,  that  there  was  ample 
space  behind  it  to  shelter  both  men  and  horses — room  for  us  all! 

We  were  only  astonished  we  had  not  observed  it  sooner  ;  but 
this  was  not  to  be  wondered  at,  for  its  colour  corresponded  ex 
actly  with  that  of  the  cliff,  and  it  was  difficult,  even  at  twenty 
yards'  distance,  to  distinguish  it  from  the  latter.  Besides,  our 
eyes,  from  the  moment  of  our  hialtiLg,  had  been  turned  in  ano 
ther  direction. 

We  did  not  stay  to  give  words  to  our  surprise  ;  but  hurrying 
our  horses  along  with  us,  with  joyful  exclamations  we  glided  be 
hind  the  rock. 

It  was  not  an  echo  of  our  joy,  but  a  cry  of  disappointed  rage 
that  pealed  along  the  line  of  the  guerrilla.  They  saw  at  once 
that  their  long  gun  would  no  longer  avail  them,  and  both  Ijurra 
and  his  marksmen  were  now  seen  dancing  over  the  ground  like 
madmen.  El  Zorro's  metier  was  at  an  end. 

A  more  perfect  "  harbour  of  refuge  "  could  not  have  been 
found  in  all  prairie-land.  As  Garey  alleged,  it  "  beat  tree-tim 
ber  all  hollow  !"  A  little  fortress,  in  fact,  in  which  we  might 
defy  even  twice  the  number  of  our  assailants — unless,  indeed, 
they  should  wax  desperately  brave,  and  try  us  hand  to  hand. 

Our  sudden  disappearance  had  created  a  new  sensation  in  their 
ranks.  From  their  shouts,  we  could  tell  that  some  of  them  re 
garded  it  with  feelings  of  wonder — perhaps  with  emotions  of  a 
still  stronger  kind.  We  could  hear  the  exclamations  "  Carrai  /" 
*'  Carrambo  /"  with  the  phrase  "  los  demonios  /"  passing  from 
mouth  to  mouth.  Indeed,  from  the  position  which  they  occupied, 
it  must  have  appeared  to  them  that  we  had  gone  into  the  cliff  ! 
The  separation  of  the  rock  from  the  wall  behind  it  wae  not  per 
ceptible  from  the  plain,  else  we  should  have  perceived  it  as  we 
rode  forward. 

If  our  enemies  knew  of  this  out-lying  boulder,  it  was  strange 


EL   ZOEEO.  201 

they  had  left  the  way  open  to  so  safe  a  retreat — strange,  since  it 
did  not  correspond  with  the  cunning  they  had  otherwise  given 
proofs  of — and  yet  stranger  they  should  be  ignorant  of  its  exis- 
tance.  Most  of  them  were  natives  of  this  frontier,  and  must 
have  frequently  visited  the  mesa,  which  was  one  of  the  "lions" 
of  the  district.  Perhaps  they  bad  never  troubled  their  thoughts 
about  it.  There  is  no  people  who  takes  less  interest  in  the 
rare  features  of  their  beautiful  country  than  the  Mexicans. 
Nature  charms  them  not.  A  Mexican  dwelling  with  a  garden 
around  it  is  a  rarity — a  lawn  or  a  shrubbery  is  never  seen  ;  but 
indeed  nature  has  bounteously  supplied  them  with  all  these. 
They  dwell  amidst  scenes  of  picturesque  beauty  ;  they  gaze 
over  green  savannas — down  into  deep  barrancas — up  to  the 
snow-crowned  summits  of  mighty  mountains — without  experienc 
ing  one  emotion  of  the  sublime.  A  tortured  bull,  a  steel-gal  ved 
cock,  Roman  candles,  and  the  Chinese  wheel,  are  to  them  the 
sights  of  superior  interest,  and  furnish  them  with  all  their  petty 
emotions.  So  is  it  with  nations,  as  with  men  who  have  passed 
the  age  of  their  strength,  and  reached  the  period  of  senility  and 
second  childhood. 

But  there  was  another  and  perhaps  a  better,  reason  why  none 
of  our  adversaries  should  be  intimate  with  the  locality.  As  my 
companions  alleged,  the  spot  was  a  favorite  halting-place  of  the 
Comanches — they  have  an  eye  for  the  picturesque — but  perhaps 
the  existence  of  a  spring  that  was  near  had  more  to  do  in  guid 
ing  the  preference  of  these  "lords  of  the  prairies."  The  mesa, 
therefore,  had  for  years  been  dangerous  ground,  and  little  trod 
den  by  the  idle  curious.  Possibly  not  one  of  the  heroes  we  saw 
before  us  had  for  years  ventured  so  far  out  upon  the  plains. 


9* 


'202  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

A     PLAN      OF     ESCAPE, 

IF  our  enemies  were  awed  by  our  sudden  disappearance,  it  was 
soon  robbed  of  its  mysterious  character.  Our  faces,  and  the 
dark  barrels  of  our  rifles,  visible  around  the  edges  of  the  white 
rock,  must  have  dispelled  all  ideas  of  the  supernatural.  Having 
hastily  disposed  of  our  horses,  we  had  placed  ourselves  thus — in 
case  of  a  charge  being  made — though  of  this  we  had  no  longer 
any  great  apprehension  ;  and  still  less  as  we  watched  the  move 
ments  of  our  adversaries. 

El  Zorro  continued  for  some  time  to  fire  his  big  gun — the 
bullets  of  which  we  could  dodge  as  easily  as  if  they  had  been 
turnips  hurled  at  us — and  the  leaden  missiles  fell  harmlessly  at 
our  feet.  Seeing  this,  the  salteador  at  length  ceased  firing,  and 
with  another,  rode  off  in  the  direction  of  the  settlements,  no 
doubt  on  some  errand. 

One  pair  of  eyes  was  sufficient  to  watch  the  movements  of  the 
besiegers.  Garey  undertook  this  duty,  leaving  Rube  and  myself 
free  to  think  over  some  plan  of  escape. 

That  we  were  not  to  be  attacked  was  now  certain.  We  had 
the  choice,  then,  of  two  alternatives — either  to  keep  the  position 
we  were  in  till  thirst  should  force  us  to  surrender,  or  attack 
them,  and  by  a  bold  coup  cut  our  way  through  their  line.  As  to 
the  former,  we  well  knew  that  thirst  would  soon  compel  us  to 
yield.  Hunger  we  dreaded  not.  We  had  our  knives,  and  before 
us  a  plentiful  stock  of  that  food  on  which  the  prairie  wanderer 
often  sustains  life.  u  Horse-beef"  we  had  all  eaten,  and  could 
do  so  again  ;  but  for  the**  sister  appetite — thirst — we  had  made 


A   PLAN   OF   ESCAPE.  203 

no  provision.  Our  gourd-canteens  were  empty — had  been  empty 
for  hours — we  were  actually  pushing  for  the  mesa  spring  when 
the  enemy  first  came  in  sight.  We  were  then  athirst  ;  but  the 
excitement  of  the  skirmish,  with  the  play  of  passion  incident 
thereto,  had  augmented  the  appetite,  and  already  were  we  a 
prey  to  its  keenest  pangs.  We  mumbled  as  we  talked,  for  each 
qf  us  was  chewing  the  leaden  bullet.  Thirst,  then,  we  dreaded 
even  more  than  our  armed  enemy. 

The  other  alternative  was  a  desperate  one — now  more  desper 
ate  than  ever,  from  the  increased  number  of  our  foes.  To  cut 
our  way  through  them  had  no  other  signification  than  to  fight 
the  whole  party  hand  to  hand  ;  and  we  regretted  we  had  not 
done  so  when  only  eleven  were  opposed  to  us. 

A  little  reflection,  however,  convinced  us  that  we  were  in  a 
yet  better  position.  We  could  make  the  attempt  in  the  darkness. 
Night  would  favour  us  to  some  extent.  Could  we  succeed  by  a 
bold  dash  in  breaking  through  their  deployed  line,  we  might  es 
cape  under  the  friendly  cover  of  darknesSj  and  the  confusion 
consequent  upon  the  melee. 

There  was  probability  in  this.  The  boldest  was  clearly  the 
wisest  course  we  could  pursue.  Desperate  it  appeared.  One  or 
other  of  us  might  fall,  but  it  offered  the  only  hope  that  any  of 
us  might  get  free,  for  we  knew  that  to  surrender  was  to  be  shot 
— perhaps  worse — tortured. 

We  had  but  faint  hopes  of  a  rescue,  so  faint,  we  scarcely 
entertained  them.  I  knew  that  my  friends,  the  rangers,  would 
be  in  search  of  me.  Wheatley  and  Holingsworth  would  not  give 
me  up  without  making  an  effort  for  my  recovery  ;  but  then  the 
search  would  be  made  in  a  different  direction — that  in  which  I 
had  gone,  and  which  lay  many  miles  from  the  route  by  the  mesa. 
Even  had  they  thought  of  sending  to  the  mound,  the  search  must 
have  been  already  made,  and  the  party  returned  from  it.  Too 
long  time  had  elapsed  to  make  any  calculation  on  a  chance  like 
this.  The  hope  was  not  worth  holding,  and  we  he)d  it  not. 


204  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

For  some  time,  Rube  and  I  thought  in  combination,  canvass 
ing  the  details  of  the  plan  that  had  offered.  After  a  while  we 
stood,  apart,  and  each  pursued  the  train  of  his  own  reflections. 

I  declare  that  in  that  hour  I  had  more  painful  thoughts  than 
those  that  sprung  from  the  peril  of  my  situation  ;  this  I  solemnly 
declare. 

I  have  already  said,  that  when  I  first  recognized  the  leader  $ 
the  guerrilla,  I  experienced  an  unpleasant  suspicion.  Since  then, 
I  had  not  time  to  dwell  upon  it — self-preservation  engrossing  all 
my  thoughts.  Now,  that  I  found  more  leisure  for  reflection,  the 
dire  doubt  returned  in  full  strength,  and  I  bitterly  pondered  upon 
it.  Need  I  name  the  subject  of  my  wretched  reflections  ?  Isolina 
de  Vargas  I 

Knew  she  of  this  ?  Knew  she  that  Ijurra  was  the  chief  of  a 
guerrilla  ?  Her  cousin — sharer  of  the  same  roof — she  could 
scarcely  be  ignorant  of  it !  Who  set  him  on  our  trail  ?  Oh, 
bitter  thought  !  was  the  hunt  of  the  wild-horse  a  ruse — a  scheme 
— to  separate  me  from  my  command,  and  thus  render  it  an  easier 
prey  to  the  Mexican  guerrilleros  ?  Perhaps  my  straggling  fol 
lowers  were  by  this  cut  off  ?  Perhaps  the  post  had  been  attack 
ed  by  a  large  body  of  the  enemy — captured  ?  I  was  not  only 
to  lose  life,  but  had  already  lost  my  honor.  I,  the  proud  cap 
tain  of  a  boasted  troop,  to  be  thus  entrapped  by  artifice — the 
artifice  of  a  woman  1 

My  heart,  overwhelmed  with  such  bitter  fancies,  stayed  not 
to  reason. 

Presently  followed  a  calmer  interval,  and  I  begun  to  discuss 
the  probability  of  my  suspicions.  What  motive  could  she  have 
to  plot  my  destruction  ?  Surely  not  from  any  feeling  of  love 
for  her  country,  and  hatred  towards  its  enemies  ?  From  all  I 
had  learned,  no  such  sentiment  existed  in  her  mind,  but  rather 
an  opposite  one — a  truer  patriotism.  She  was  a  woman  of  suf 
ficient  aim  and  intellect  to  have  a  feeling  one  way  or  the  other  : 
but  had  I  not  good  grounds  for  believing  her  a  friend  to  om 


A    PLAN    OF   ESCAPE,  205 

cause  ;  a  foe  to  the  tyrants  we  would  conquer  ?     If  otherwise,  I 
was  the  victim  of  profound  deception  and  unparalleled  hypocrisy  J 

Perhaps,  however,  her  feeling  was  personal,  not  national. 
Was  I  alone  the  object  of  her  hatred  ?  Had  I  done  aught  by 
word  or  deed  to  call  forth  her  antagonism — to  deserve  such  cruel 
vengeance  ?  If  so,  I  was  sadly  ignorant  of  the  fact.  -  If  she 
hated  me,  she  hated  one  who  loved  her,  with  his  whole  soul  ab 
sorbed  in  the  passion.  But  no,  I  could  not  think  that  I  was  an 
obj-ct  of  hatred  to  her.  Why  should  she  hate  me  ?  How  could 
she? 

I  could  think  of  but  one  motive  why  she  should  make  herself 
instrumental  in  the  accomplishment  of  my  ruin.  It  was  explica 
ble  only  on  the  presumption  that  she  was  attached  to  Ijurra — 
that  Rafael  Ijurra  was  the  lord  of  her  heart.  If  so,  he  could 
easily  bend  it  to  his  will — for  this  is  but  the  sequence  of  the 
other — could  influence  her  to  whatever  act. 

As  for  Ijurra,  there  was  motive  enough  for  his  hostility,  even 
to  the  seeking  of  my  life.  The  insult  put  upon  him  at  our  first 
meeting — the  knowledge  that  I  loved  her — for  I  was  certain  he 
knew  it — with  the  additional  fact  that  I  was  an  enemy — one  of 
the  invaders — of  his  country.  These  were  sufficient  motives 
though,  doubtless,  the  two  first  far  outweighed  the  other:  with 
Rafael  Ijurra,  revenge  and  jealousy  were  stronger  passions  than 
patriotism. 

Then  came  consolation — thoughts  of  brighter  hue.  In  the 
face  of  all  was  the  fact,  that  the  white  steed  had  been  found,  and 
captured  !  There  stood  the  beautiful  creature  before  my  eyes. 
There  was  no  deception  in  that — there  could  be  none — no  scheme 
could  have  contrived  a  contingency  so  remarkable. 

Ijurra  might  easily  have  known  of  the  expedition  without  her 
agency.  Its  result  he  would  have  learned  from  the  returned 
vaqueros.  He  had  time  enough  then  to  collect  his  band,  and 
set  after  me.  Perhaps  she  even  knew  not  that  he  was  a  leader 
of  guerrilleros  ?  I  had  heard  that  his  movements  were  shrouded 


206  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

in  mystery — that  mystery  which  covers  tne  designs  of  the  ad 
venturer.  He  had  served  in  the  school  of  Antonio  Lopez  de 
Santa  Anna — tit  master  of  deception.  Isolina  might  be  innocent 
even  of  the  knowledge  of  his  acts. 

I  re-read  Isolina's  letter,  weighing  every  word.  Strange 
epistle,  but  natural  to  the  spirit  that  had  dictated  it.  In  its 
pages  I  could  trace  no  evidence  of  treason.  No  ;  Isolina  was 
loyal — she  was  true  ! 


CHAPTER    XXXVII. 

ELIJAH      QUACKENBOSS. 

WHILE  these  reflections  were  passing  through  my  mind,  I  was 
standing,  or  rather  leaning,  with  my  back  against  the  boulder, 
and  my  face  towards  the  wall  of  the  mesa.  Directly  in  front  of 
me  was  a  recess  or  indentation  in  the  cliff,  carried  groove-like 
upward,  and  deepening  as  it  approached  the  summit.  It  was  a 
slight  gorge  or  furrow,  evidently  formed  by  the  attrition  of  water, 
and  probably  the  conduit  of  the  rain  that  fell  upon  the  table 
surface  of  the  mound. 

Though  the  cliffs  on  each  side  were  perfectly  vertical,  the 
gorge  had  a  considerable  inclination  ;  and  the  instant  my  eyes 
rested  upon  it,  it  occurred  to  me  that  the  precipice  at  this  point 
could  be  scaled  1 

Up  to  this  moment,  I  had  not  thought  of  such  a  thing  ;  for  I 
had  been  under  the  impression — from  what  my  companions  had 
told  me — that  the  summit  of  the  mesa  was  inaccessible. 

Rousing  myself  to  more  energetic  observation,  I  scrutinized 
the  cliff  from  base  to  summit ;  and  the  more  I  regarded  it,  the 
stronger  grew  my  conviction  that,  without  great  difficulty,  an 


ELIJAH    QUACKENBOS8.  207 

climber  might  reach  the  top.  There  were  knob-like  pro 
tuberances  on  the  rock  that  would  serve  as  footholds,  and  here 
and  there,  email  bushes  of  the  trailing  cedar  hung  out  from  the 
seams,  that  would  materially  assist  any  one  making  the  ascent. 

While  scanning  these  peculiarities,  I  was  startled  by  observing 
several  abrasions  on  the  face  of  the  rock.  These  marks  appeared 
quite  fresh,  and  evidently  made  by  some  other  agency  than  that 
of  the  elements. 

After  a  short  examination,  I  became  convinced  that  they 
were  marks  made  by  a  human  foot — the  scratches  of  a  strong- 
soled  shoe.  Beyond  a  doubt,  the  cliff  had  been  scaled  ! 

My  first  impulse  was  to  communicate  the  discovery  to  my 
companions  ;  but  I  forebore  for  a  while — in  order  to  satisfy  my 
self  that  the  person  who  had  made  this  daring  attempt  had  ac 
tually  succeeded  in  reaching  the  summit. 

Twilight  was  on,  and  I  could  get  only  aa  indistinct  view  of 
the  gorge  at  its  upper  part,  but  I  saw  enough  to  convince  me 
that  the  attempt  had  been  successful. 

What  bold  fellow  had  ventured  this  ?  and  with  what  object  ? 
were  the  questions  I  naturally  asked  myself. 

Vague  recollections  were  stirring  within  me  ;  presently  they 
grew  more  distinct,  and  all  at  once  I  was  able  to  answer  both 
the  interrogatories  I  had  put.  I  knew  the  man  who  had  climbed 
that  cliff.  I  only  wondered  I  had  not  thought  of  him  before  ! 

Among  the  many  odd  characters  in  the  piebald  band,  of  which 
I  had  the  honour  to  be  chief,  not  the  least  odd  was  one  who  an 
swered  to  the  euphonious  name  of  "  Elijah  Quackenboss.''  He 
was  a  mixture  of  Yankee  and  German,  originating  somewhere  in 
the  mountains  of  Pennsylvania.  He  had  been  a  schoolmaster 
among  his  native  hills — had  picked  up  some  little  book-learning  ; 
but  what  rendered  him  more  interesting  to  me  was  the  fact  that 
he  was  a  botanist.  Not  a  very  scientific  one,  it  is  true  ;  but  in 
whatever  way  obtained,  he  possessed  a  respectable  knowledge  of 
flora  and  sylvia,  and  evinced  an  aptitude  for  '.he  study  not  into- 


208  THE    WAR-TEAIL. 

rior  to  Linnaeus  himself.  The  more  surprising  was  this,  that  such 
inclinations  are  somewhat'  rare  among  Americans — but  Quacken- 
boss  no  doubt  drew  his  instincts  from  his  Teutonic  ancestry. 

If  his  intellectual  disposition  was  odd,  not  less  so  was  his  phy 
sical.  His  person  was  tall,  crooked,  and  lanky  ;  and  none  of 
those  members  that  should  have  been  ceunterparts  of  each  other 
seemed  exactly  to  match.  His  arms  were  odd  ones — his  limbs 
unlike  ;  and  all  four  looked  as  if  they  had  met  by  accident,  and 
could  not  agree  upon  anything  ;  his  eyes  were  no  better  mated, 
and  never  consented  to  look  in  the  same  direction  ;  but  with  the 
right  one,  Elijah  Quackenboss  could  "sight"  a  rifle,  and  drive  in 
a  nail  at  a  hundred  yards'  distance. 

From  his  odd  habits  his  companions — the  rangers — regarded 
him  as  hardly  "  square  ;"  but  this  idea  was  partially  derived  from 
seeing  him  engaged  in  his  botanical  researches — an  occupation 
that  to  them  appeared  simply  absurd.  They  knew,  however, 
that  "  Dutch  Lige  " — such  was  his  sobriquet — could  shoot  "  plum 
centre  ;"  and  notwithstanding  his  quiet  demeanor,  had  proved 
himself  "  good  stuff  at  the  bottom  ;"  and  this  shielded  him 
from  the  ridicule  he  would  otherwise  have  experienced  at  their 
hands. 

Than  Quackenboss,  a  more  ardent  student  of  botany  I  never 
saw.  No  labor  retarded  him  in  the  pursuit.  No  matter  how 
wearied  with  drill  or  other  duties,  the  moment  the  hours  became  his 
own,  he  would  be  off  in  search  of  rare  plants,  wandering  far  from 
camp,  and  at  times  placing  himself  in  situations  of  extreme  danger. 
Since  his  arrival  on  Texan  ground,  he  had  devoted  much  atten 
tion  to  the  study  of  the  cactacece,  and  now  having  reached  Mex 
ico,  the  home  of  these  singular  endogens,  he  might  be  said  to 
have  gone  cactus-mad.  Every  day  his  researches  disclosed  tc 
him  new  forms  of  cactus  or  cereus,  and  it  was  in  connection  with 
one  of  these  that  he  was  now  recalled  to  my  memory.  I  remem 
ber  his  having  told  me — for  a  similarity  of  tastes  frequently 
brought  us  into  conversation — of  his  having  discovered,  but  a 


ELIJAH    QTJACKENBOSS.  20  £ 

few  days  before,  a  new  and  singular  species  of  mamittaria.  He 
had  found  it  growing  upon  a  prarie  mound  which  he  had  climb 
ed  for  the  purpose  of  exploring  its  botany,  adding  at  the  same 
time  that  he  had  observed  the  species  only  upon  the  top  of  this 
mound,  and  nowhere  else  in  the  surrounding  country. 

This  mound  was  our  mesa.  It  had  been  climbed  by  Elijah 
Quackenboss  ! 

If  he,  awkward  animal  that  he  was,  had  been  able  to  scale  the 
height,  why  could  not  we  1 

"This  was  my  reflection  ;  and  without  staying  td  consider 
what  advantage  we  should  derive  from  such  a  proceeding,  I  com 
municated  the  discovery  to  my  companions. 

Both  appeared  delighted,  and  after  a  short  scrutiny,  declared 
the  path  practicable.  G  arey  believed  he  could  easily  go  up  ; 
and  Rube  in  his  terse  way  said,  that  his  ."  jeints  wa'nt  so  stiff 
yet :"  only  a  month  ago  he  had  "  clomb  a  wuss-looking  bluff  than 
it."' 

But  now  the  reflection  occurred,  to  what  purpose  should  we 
make  the  ascent  ?  We  could  not  escape  in  that  way  !  There 
was  no  chance  of  our  being  able  to  descend  upon  the  other  side, 
for  there  the  clift  was  impracticable.  The  behavior  of  the 
guerrilleros  had  given  proof  oi'  this.  Some  time  before,  Ijurra, 
with  another,  had  gone  to  the  rear  of  the  mound,  evidently  to 
reconnoitre  it,  in  hopes  of  being  able  to  assail  us  from  behind, 
But  they  had  returned  and  ftieir  gestures  betokened  their  disap 
pointment. 

Why,  then,  should  we  ascend,  if  we  could  not  also  descend  on 
the  opposite  side  ?  True  upon  the  summit  we  should  be  per 
fectly  safe  from  an  attack  of  the  guerrilla,  but  not  from  thirst  t 
and  this  was  the  enemy  we  now  dreaded.  Water  would  not  be 
found  on  the  top  of  the  mesa.  It  could  not  better  our  situa 
tion  to  go  there  ;  on  the  contrary,  we  should  be  in  a  worse 
"fix"  than  ever.  So  said  Garey.  Where  we  were,  we  had 
our  horses — a  spare  one  to  eat  wher  that  became  necessary,  and 


THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

the  others  to  aid  as  in  our  attempt  to  escape.  Should  we  climb 
the  cliff,  these  must  be  left  behind.  From  the  top  was  less  than 
fifty  yards,  and  our  rifles  would  still  cover  them  from  the  clutch 
of  our  enemies,  but  to  what  advantage  ?  Like  ourselves,  they 
must  in  time  fall  before  thirst  and  hunger. 

The  gleam  of  hope  died  within  us,  as  suddenly  as  it  had  sprung 
up. 

It  could  in  nowise  serve  us  to  scale  the  cliff :  we  were  better 
in  our  present  position  ;  we  could  hold  that  so  long  as  thirst 
would  allow  us.  We  could  not  do  more  within  the  granite  walls 
of  an  impregnable  fortress. 

This  was  the  conclusion  at  which  Garey  and  I  had  simultan 
eously  arrived. 

Rube  had  not  yet  expressed  himself.  The  old  man  was  stand 
ing  with  both  hands  clutching  his  long  rifle,  the  butt  of  which 
rested  upon  the  ground.  He  held  the  piece  near  the  muzzle, 
partially  leaning  upon  it,  while  he  appeared  gazing  intently  into 
the  barrel.  This  was  one  of  his  "  ways  "  when  endeavoring  to 
unravel  a  knotty  question  ;  and  Garey  and  I,  knowing  this  pe 
culiarity  on  the  part  of  the  old  trapper,  remained  silent — leaving 
him  to  the  free  development  of  his  "  instincts." 


CHAPTER  XXXYIIL 

THE  TRAP  EMPTY. 

FOR  several  minutes  Rube  preserved  his  meditative  attitude, 
without  uttering  a  word  or  making  the  slightest  motion.  At 
length,  a  low  but  cheerful  whistle  escaped  his  lips,  and  at  the 
same  time  his  body  became  erect. 

"  Eh  ?  what  is't,  old  boy  ?"  inquired  Garey,  who  understood 
-he  signal,  and  knew  that  the  whistle  denoted  some  discovery. 


THE   TBAP   EMPTY.  211 

Rube's  reply  was  the  interrogatory  :  "  How  long's  yur  trail- 
rope,  Bill?" 

"  It  are  twenty  yards — good  mizyure,"  answered  Garey. 

"  An  yurs,  young  fellur  ?" 

"  About  the  same  length — perhaps  a  yard  or  two  more." 

11  Good  !"  ejaculated  the  questioner,  with  a  satisfied  look. 
"  we'll  fool  them  niggurs  yit — we  will !" 

"  Hooraw  for  you,  old  boy  !  you've  hit  on  some  plan,  hain't 
rou  ?"  This  was  Garey's  interrogatory. 

"  Sartintly,  I  hez." 

"  Let's  have  it  then,  kummarade,"  said  Garey,  seeing  that 
Rube  had  relapsed  into  silence  ;  "their  ain't  much  time  to  think 
o'  things " 

"  Plenty  o'  time,  Billee  !  Don't  be  so  durned  impatient  boy  1 
Thur's  gobs  o'  time.  I'll  stake  my  ole  mar  agin  the  young  fel- 
lur's  black  hoss,  thet  we'll  be  out  o'  this  scrape  afore  sunup. 
Geehosophat  !  how  thu'll  cuss  when  they  finds  the  trap  empy. 
He,  he,  he — ho,  ho,  hoo  !" 

And  the  old  sinner  continued  to  laugh  for  some  seconds,  as 
coolly  and  cheerfully  as  if  no  enemy  was  within  a  thousand  miles 
of  the  spot. 

Garey  and  I  were  chafing  with  impatience,  but  we  knew 
that  our  comrade  was  in  one  of  his  queer  moods,  and  it  was 
no  use  attempting  to  push  him  faster  than  he  was  disposed  to  go. 

When  his  chuckling  fit  was  ended,  he  assumed  a  more  serious 
air,  and  once  more  appeared  to  busy  himself  with  the  calculation 
of  some  problem.  He  spoke  in  soliloquy. 

"Twenty  yurds  o'  Bill's,"  muttered  he,  "an  twenty  o' the 
young  fellur's  ur  forty  ;  an  myen — it  ur  sixteen  yurds— make 
the  hul  fifty  an  six  ;  ye-es,  fifty-six  preezactly.  Then  thur's  the 
knots  to  come  off  o'  thet,  though  fornenst  'em  thur's  bridles. 
Wagh  1  thur's  rope  aplenty,  an  enough  over,  to  string  up  half  a 
score  o'  them  yeller-bellies,  ef  ever  I  gits  holten  'era  And 
won't  I  ?  Wagh  !" 


212  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

During  this  arithmetical  process,  Rube,  instead  of  gazing  any 
longer  into  the  barrel  of  his  rifle,  had  kept  his  eyes  .wandering 
up  and  down  the  cliff.  Before  he  had  ceased  talking,  both 
Garey  and  myself  had  divined  his  plan,  but  we  refrained  from 
telling  him  so.  To  have  anticipated  the  old  trapper  in  his  dis 
closure  would  have  been  a  mortal  offence. 

We  waited  for  him  to  make  it  known. 

"  Now,  boyes  I"  said  he  at  length,  "  hyur's  how  we;ll  git  clur. 
Fust  an  fo'must,  we'll  crawl  up  yander,  soon's  it  gits  dark  enough 
to  kiver  us.  Seconds,  we'll  toat  our  trail-ropes  along  wP  us. 
Thuds,  we'll  jine  the  three  thegither,  an  ef  thet  ain't  long  enough, 
a  kupple  o'  bridles  'ill  help  out.  Fo'th,  we'll  tie  the  eend  o'  the 
rope  to  a  sapling  up  thur  on  top,  an  then  slide  down  the  bluff  on 
t'other  side,  do  ee  see  ?  Fift,  oncest  down  on  the  prairie,  we'll 
put  straight  for  the  settlements.  Sixt  an  lastest,  when  we  gits 
thur,  we'll  gather  a  wheen  o'  the  young  fellur's  rangers,  take  a 
bee-line  back  to  the  mound,  an  gie  these  hyur  niggurs  such  a 
lambaystin  as  they  hain't  hed  since  the  war  begun.  Now  2" 

"  Now  "  meant,  what  think  you  of  the  plan  ?  Mentally,  both 
Garey  and  I  had  already  approved  of  it,  and  we  promptly  signi 
fied  our  approval.  "It  really  promised  well.  Should  we  succeed 
in  carrying  out  the  details  without  being  detected,  it  was  prob 
able  enough  that  within  a  few  hours  we  might  be  safe  in  the 
plaza  of  the  rancheria,  and  quenching  our  thirst  at  its  crystal  well. 

The  anticipated  pleasure  filled  us  with  fresh  energy  ;  and  \ve 
set  about  putting  everything  in  readiness.  One  watched,  while 
the  other  two  worked.  Our  lazoes  were  knotted  together,  and 
the  four  horses  fastened  head  to  head  with  their  bridles,  and  se 
cured  in  so  as  to  keep  them  behind  the  boulder.  This  done,  we 
awaited  the  falling  of  night. 

Would  it  be  a  dark  night  ?  About  this  we  now  felt  anxious. 
It  was  already  closing  down  and  gare  promise  of  favoring  us  ;  a 
layer  of  lead-colored  clouds  covered  the  sky,  and  we  knew  there 
could  be  no  moon  before  midnight. 


THE   TRAP   EMPTY.  213 

Rube,  who  boasted  he  could  read  weather-sign  like  a  u  salt-sea 
'jailor,5  scrutinized  the  sky. 

"  Wai,  old  hoss  !"  interrogated  Garey,  "  what  do  ye  think 
o't  ?  Will  it  be  dark,  eh  ?" 

"  Black  as  a  bar  I"  muttered  Rube  in  reply  ;  and  then,  as  if 
not  satisfied  with  the  simile,  he  added  :  "Black  as  the  inside 
o'  a  buffler  bull's  belly  on  a  burnt  paraira  !" 

The  old  trapper  laughed  heartily  at  the  ludicrous  conceit,  and 
Garey  and  I  could  not  refrain  from  joining  in  the  laugh.  The 
guerrilleros  must  have  heard  us  ;  they  must  have  deemed  us 
mad  ! 

Rube's  prognostication  proved  correct ;  the  night  came  down 
dark  and  lowering.  The  leaden  layer  broke  up  into  black 
cumulus  clouds,  that  slowly  careered  across  the  canopy  of  the 
sky.  A  storm  portended  ;  and  already  some  big  drops,  that 
shot  vertically  downward,  could  be  heard  plashing  heavily  upon 
our  saddles.  All  this  was  to  our  satisfaction  ;  but  at  that 
moment  a  flash  of  lightning  illumined  the  whole  arch  of  the 
heavens,  lighting  the  prairie  as  with  a  thousand  torches.  It  was 
cone  of  the  pale  lavender-colored  light,  seen  in  northern  climes,  ^ 
but  a  brilliant  blaze,  that  appeared  to  pervade  all  space,  and 
almost  rivalled  the  brightness  of  day. 

Its  sudden  and  unexpected  appearance  filled  us  with  dismay  : 
we  recognized  in  it  an  obstacle  to  our  designs. 

"  Burn  the  tariial  thing  !"  exclaimed  Rube,  peevishly.  "  It 
ur  wuss  than  a  moon,  durn  it  !" 

"  Is  it  goin  to  be  the  quick-forky,  or  the  long-blazey  ?"  in 
quired  Garey,  with  a  reference  to  two  distinct  modes  in  which, 
upon  these  southern  prairies,  the  electric  fluid  exhibits  itself. 

In  the  former,  the  flashes  are  quick  and  short-lived,  and  the 
intervals  o£  darkness  also  of  short  duration.  Bolts  pierce  the 
clouds  in  straight,  lance-like  shafts,  or  forking  and  zigzag,  follow 
ed  by  thunder  in  loud  unequal  bursts,  and  dasnes  of  intermittent 
rain  * 


214:  THE   WAR-TKAIL. 

The  other  is  very  distinct  from  this  ;  there  are  no  shafts  or 
bolts,  but  a  steady  blaze  which  fills  the  whole  firmament  with  a 
white  quivering  light,  lasting  many  seconds  of  time,  and  follow -id 
by  long  intervals  of  amorphous  darkness.  •  Such  lightning  is 
rarely  accompanied  by  thunder,  and  rain  is  not  always  its  :on- 
fomitant,  though  it  was  this  sort  we  now  witnessed,  and  rain 
drops  were  falling. 

"  Quick-forky  !"  echoed  Rube,  in  reply  to  his  comrade's  inter 
rogatory  ;  "  no — dod  rot  it  !  not  so  bad  as  thet.  It  ur  the 
blazey.  Thur's  no  thunder,  dont'ee  see  ?  Wai  !  we  must  grope 
our  way  up  atween  the  glimps." 

1  understood  why  Rube  preferred  the  "  blazey  ;"  the  long 
intervals  of  darkness  between  the  flashes  might  enable  us  to  carry 
out  our  plan. 

He  had  scarcely  finished  speaking,  when  the  lightning  gleam 
ed  a  second  time,  arid  the  prairie  was  lit  up  like  a  theatre  during 
the  grand  scene  in  a  spectacle.  We  could  see  the  guerrilleros 
standing  by  their  horses,  in  cordon  across  the  plain  ;  we  could 
distinguish  their  arms  and  equipments — even  the  buttons  upon 
.their  jackets  !  With  their  faces  rendered  ghastly  under  the 
glare,  and  their  bodies  magnified  to  gigantic  proportions,  they 
presented  to  our  eyes  a  wild  and  spectral  appearance. 

With  the  flash  there  was  no  thunder — neither  the  close  quick 
clap,  nor  the  distant  rumble.  There  was  perfect  silence,  which 
rendered  the  scene  more  awfully  impressive. 

"  All  right !"  muttered  Rube,  as  he  saw  that  the  besiegers 
still  kept  their  places.  "  We  must  jest  grope  our  way  up  atween 
the  glimps  ;  but  fust  let  'em  see  we're  still  hyur." 

We  protruded  our  faces  and  rifles  around  the  rock,  and  in  this 
position  awaited  another  flash. 

It  came,  bright  as  before  ;  the  enemy  could  not  fail  to  have 
noticed  us. 

Our  programme  was  already  prepared  :  Garey  was  to  ascend 
first,  and  take  up  the  rope.  He  only  waited  for  the  termination 


SCALING    THE    CLIFF.  215 

of  another  blaze.  One  end  of  the  lazo  was  fastened  round  his 
waist,  and  the  rope  hung  down  behind  him. 

When  the  light  gleamed  again,  he  was  ready  ;  and  the  moment 
it  went  out,  he  glided  forward  to  the  cliff,  and  commenced  his 
ascent. 

0,  for  a  long  interval  of  darkness  ! 


CHAPTER    XXXIX 

SCALING  THE  CLIFF. 

0  FOR  a  long  interval  of  darkness  ! 

Our  hearts  beat  anxiously — at  least  I  can  answer  for  my  own, 
Rube  watched  the  guerrilleros,  permitting  his  head  to  be  seen  by 
them.  My  eyes  were  bent  upon  the  rocky  wall,  but  through  the 
thick  darkness  I  looked  in  vain  for  our  comrade.  I  listened  to 
hear  how  he  was  progressing  :  I  could  distinguish  a  slight 
scratching  against  the  cliff,  each  moment  higher  and  farther 
away  ;  but  Garey  climbed  with  a  moccasined  foot,  and  the  noise 
was  too  faint  to  reach  the  ears  of  our  enemies.  0  for  a  long 
interval  of  darkness  ! 

It  appeared  a  long  one  :  perhaps  it  was  not  five  minutes,  but 
it  felt  twice  that,  before  the  lightning  again  blazed  forth.  With 
the  flash,  I  ran  my  eyes  up  the  precipitous  wall.  O  God  !  Garey 
wag  still  upon  its  face,  scarcely  midway  up.  He  was  standing 
on  a  ledge — his  body  flattened  against  the  rock — :and  with  his 
arms  extended  horizontally,  he  presented  the  appearance  of  a 
man  crucified  upon  the  cliff !  So  long  as  the  glare  lasted,  he 
remained  in  this  attitude,  motionless  as  the  rock  itself. 

1  turned  with  anxious  look  toward  the  guerrilleros.     I  heard 


216  THE    WAK-TKAIL. 

no  voice  ;  1  observed  no  movement.     Thank  Heaven  I  they  saw 
him  not  ! 

Near  where  he  was  resting,  some  bushes  of  the  trailing  cedr-i 
grew  out  of  the  cliff ;  their  dark  foliage  mottled  its  white  fs,ce, 
rendering  the  form  of  the  climber  less  conspicuous. 

Another  long  spell  of  darkness,  another  blaze  of  light. 

I  scanned  the  gorge  :  no  human  form  was  visible.  I  saw  a 
dark  line  that,  like  a  crack,  vertically  intersected  the  cliff  from 
parapet  to  base  :  it  was  the  rope  Garey  had  carried  up.  He 
had  reached  the  summit  in  safety  ! 

It  was  my  turn  next — for  Rube  insisted  on  retaining  the  post 
of  danger — and  with  my  rifle  slung  on  my  back,  I  stood  ready. 
I  had  given  the  parting  whisper  to  my  brave  steed,  and  pressed 
his  velvet  muzzle  to  my  cheek.  With  the  last  flicker  of  the 
electric  gleam,  I  seized  the  hanging  lazo,  and  drew  myself  upward. 

I  had  confidence  in  the  rope.  I  knew  it  was  fastened  above,  or 
safe  in  the  strong  grasp  of  Garey.  With  its  aid  the  ascent  was 
rendered  easy.  I  experienced  no  difficulty  in  -climbing  from  ledge 
to  ledge,  and  before  the  light  came  again,  I  had  reached  the  crest 
of  the  cliff. 

We  lay  flat  among  the  bushes  that  grew  by  the  very  brink, 
scarcely  showing  our  faces  to  the  front. 

I  saw  that  the  rope  had  been  fastened  round  the  trunk  of  a 
small  tree.  Presently  we  perceived  by  its  jerking  that  Rube 
had  begun  his  ascent.  Shortly  after,  we  could  hear  him  sprawl 
ing  and  scratching  upward,  and  then  his  thin  dark  form  loomed 
over  the  edge  of  the  cliff,  and  dead  beat  for  breath,  be  staggered 
silently  into  the  bushes  beside  us.  Even  in  the  darkness,  I 
noticed  something  peculiar  in  his  appearance  !  his  head  looked 
smaller,  but  I  had  no  time  to  question  him. 

We  waited  only  for  another  glance  at  the  guerrilleros  ;  they 
were  still  at  their  posts,  evidently  unconscious  of  our  movements. 
Rube's  catskin  cap,  cunningly  adjusted  upon  the  boulder,  satis 
fied  them  that  we  were  still  at  ours  ;  and  explained,  moreover, 


SCALING   THE   CLIFF.  217 

the  oddness  I  had  observed  about  the  upper  story  of  the  trap 
per. 

Rube  had  now  recovered  wind  ;  and  gathering  up  the  rope, 
we  stole  away  over  the  table-summit  to  search  for  a  place  oi' 
descent. 

On  reaching  the  opposite  side,  we  at  once  found  what  we  wan 
ted — a  tree  near  the  edge  of  the  cliff.  Many  small  pines  grew 
upon  the  escarpment ;  and  selecting  one,  we  knotted  the  rope 
securely  around  its  trunk. 

There  was  yet  much  to  be  done  before  any  of  us  could  attempt 
the  descent.  We  knew  that  the  cliff  was  more  than  a  hundred 
feet  in  vertical  height,  and  to  glide  down  a  rope  of  that  length  is 
a  trying  feat,  worthy  the  most  expert  of  tars.  None  of  us  might  ( 
be  able  to  accomplish  it  :  the  first  could  be  lowered  down  easily 
enough,  and  this  was  our  intention  ;  so  might  the  second  ;  but 
the  other  would  have  to  glide  down  the.  rope. 

We  were  not  long  delayed  by  the  contemplation  of  this 
obstacle  :  my  comrades  were  men  of  quick  thought  ;  and  a  plan 
to  lessen  the  difficulty  soon  suggested  itself.  Their  knives  were 
out  in  a  trice  :  a  sapling  was  procured,  and  cut  into  short  pieces  ; 
these  were  notched,  and  tied  at  intervals  along  the  rope.  Our 
"  Jacob's  ladder  "  was  ready. 

It  still  remained  to  make  sure  that  the  rope  was  of  sufficient 
length.  The  knots  had  somewhat  shortened  it ;  but  this  point 
was  soon  settled  with  like  ingenuity.  A  small  stone  was  tied  to 
one  end,  and  then  dropped  over  the  cliff.  We  listened  :  we 
heard  the  dull  "  thump"  of  the  stone  upon  the  prairie  turf.  The 
rope  therefore  reached  to  the  ground. 

It  was  again  drawn  up,  the  stone  taken  out,  and  the  noose  fast 
ened  around  the  body  of  Rube,  under  his  armpits.  He  was  light 
est,  and  for  this  reason  had  been  chosen  to  make  the  first  descent, 
as  he  would  least  try  the  strength  of  the  rope — still  a  doubtful 
point.  The  ascent  had  not  proved  it — for  in  climbing  up,  but 
one-half  of  our  weight  had  been  upon  it,  our  feet  resting  either 

10 


218  THE    WAE-TBAIL. 

against  the  cliff,  or  upon  its  ledges.  Ori  reaching  the  plain, 
Rube  was  to  submit  the  rope  to  trial,  before  either  Garey  or  I 
should  attempt  to  go  down.  This  he  was  to  do  by  adding  a 
large  stone  to  his  own  weight — making  both  at  least  equal  to 
that  of  Garey,  who  was  by  far  the  heaviest  of  the  party. 

All  being  arranged,  the  old  trapper  slid  silently  over  the  edge 
of  the  cliff— Garey  and  I  giving  out  the  rope  slowly,  and  with 
caution.  Foot  by  foot,  and  yard  by  yard,  it  was  drawn  through 
our  hands  by  the  weight  of  the  descending  body,  DOW  lost  to  our 
sight  over  the  brow  of  the  cliff. 

Still  slowly,  and  with  caution,  we  allowed  the  lazo  to  pass, 
taking  care  that  it  should  glide  gradually,  so  as  not  to  jerk,  and 
cause  the  body  of  our  comrade  to  vibrate  with  too  much  violence 
against  the  rocks. 

We  were  both  seated  close  together,  our  faces  turned  to  the 
plain.  More  than  three-quarters  of  the  rope  had  passed  from  us, 
and  we  were  congratulating  ourselves  that  the  trial  would  soon  be 
over,  when  to  our  dismay,  the  strain  ceased  with  a  suddenness 
that  caused  both  of  ug  to  recoil  upon  our  backs  I  At  the  same 
instant,  we  heard  the  "  twang  "  of  the  snapping  rope,  followed  by 
a  sharp  cry  from  below  ! 

We  sprang  to  our  feet,  and  mechanically  recommenced  haul 
ing  upon  the  rope.  The  weight  was  no  longer  upon  it  ;  it  was 
light  as  packthread,  and  returned  to  our  hands  without  effort. 

Desisting,  we  fronted  to  each  other,  but  not  for  an  explana 
tion.  Neither  required  it  ;  neither  uttered  a  word.  The  case 
was  clear  :  the  rope  had  broken  ;  our  comrade  had  been  hurled 
to  the  earth  I 

With  a  simultaneous  impulse,  we  dropped  upon  our  knees ;  and, 
crawling  forward  to  the  brink  of  the  precipice,  looked  over  and 
downward.  We  could  see  nothing  in  the  dark  abysm  that 
frowned  below  ;  and  we  waited  till  the  light  should  break  forth 
again. 

We  listened  with  ears  keenly  set.     Was  it  a  groan  we  heard  ? 


SCALING   THE   CLIFF.  219 

a  cry  of  agony  ?  No  ;  its  repetition  told  us  what  it  was  —the 
howl  of  the  prairie  wolf.  No  human  voice  reached  our  ears 
Alas,  no  !  Even  a  cry  of  pain  would  have  been  welcome,  since 
it  would  have  told  us  our  comrade  still  lived.  But  no,  he  wag 
silent' — dead — perhaps  broken  to  atoms  ! 

It  was  long  ere  the  lightning  gleamed  again.  Before  it  did, 
we  heard  voices.  They  came  from  the  bottom  of  the  clifl 
directly  under  us  ;  but  there  were  two,  and  neither  was  the  voice 
of  the  trapper.  It  is  easy  to  distinguish  the  full  intonation  of  the 
Saxon  from  the  shrill  treble  of  the  sons  of  Anahuac.  The  voices 
were  those  of  our  foes. 

Presently  the  light  discovered  them  to  us.  Two  there  were. 
They  were  on  horseback,  moving  on  the  plain  below,  and  close 
in  to  the  cliff.  We  saw  them  distinctly,  but 'we  saw  not  what 
we  had  expected — the  mangled  body  of  our  comrade  I  The 
gleam,  long  continued,  had  given  us  full  time  to  scrutinize  the 
ground.  We  could  have  distinguished  upon  it  any 'object  as 
large  as  a  cat.  Rube,  living  or  dead,  was  certainly  not  there  ! 

Had  he  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  guerrilla  ?  The  two  we 
saw  carried  lances,  but  no  prisoner.  It  was  not  likely  they  had 
captured  him ;  besides,  we  knew  that  Rube,  unless  badly  crippled, 
would  never  have  surrendered  without  a  struggle,  and  neither 
shot  nor  shout  had  been  heard. 

We  were  soon  relieved  from  all  uneasiness  on  this  score.  The 
brigands  continued  their  conversation,  and  the  light  breeze 
wafted  their  voice  upwards,  so  that  we  could  distinguish  part 
of  what  was  said. 

"  Carrambo  !"  exclaimed  one  impatiently  ;  '•  you  must  have 
been  mistaken  ?  It  was  the  coyote  you  heard. " 

"  Captain!  I  am  confident  it  was  a  man's  voice." 

"  Then  it  must  have  proceeded  from  one  of  thGpicarros  behind 
the  rock.  There  is  no  one  out  here  ?  But  come  1  let  us  return 
by  the  other  side  of  the  mesa — vamos  /" 

The  hoof-stroke  admonished  us  that  they  were  passing  onward 


220  THE   WAR-TRAIL 

to  carry  out  the  aesign  of  the  last  speaker,  who  was  no  othef 
than  Ijurra  himself. 

It  was  a  relief  to  know  that  our  comrade  had  not  yet  fallen 
into  their  clutches.  How  far  he  was  injured,  we  could  not  have 
an  idea.  The  rope  had  given  way  close  to  the  top,  and  Rube 
had  carried  most  of  it  down  with  him.  In  the  confusion,  we 
had  not  noticed  how  much  remained,  behind  our  hands,  when  he 
fell ;  and  now  we  could  only  guess.  Seeing  that  he  had  disap 
peared  from  the  spot,  we  were  in  high  hope  that  he  had  sustained 
no  serious  injury. 

But  whither  had  he  gone  ?  Had  he  but  crawled  away,  and 
was  yet  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  mesa  ?  If  so,  they  might 
light  upon  him.  Hiding-place  there  was  none,  either  by  the 
base  of  the  cliff  or  on  the  surrounding  plain. 

Garey  and  I  were  anxious  about  the  result — the  more  so, 
that  the  guerrilleros  had  heard  his  cry,  and  were  in  search  of 
him.  He  might  easily  be  found  in  such  a  naked  spot. 

We  hastily  formed  the  determination  to  cross  the  table  sum 
mit  to  the  other  side,  and  watch  the  movements  of  the  two 
horsemen. 

Guided  by  their  voices,  we  once  more  knelt  above  them,  at 
the  rearmost  angle  of  the  mound.  They  had  there  halted  to 
examine  the  ground,  and  only  waited  for  the  flash  ;  we,  too, 
waited  above  them,  and  within  range. 

"  We  kin  fetch  them  out  o'  thar  saddles  ?"  whispered  my  com 
panion. 

I  hesitated  to  give  my  assent ;  perhaps  it  was  prudence  that 
restrained  me,  for  I  had  now  conceived  hopes  of  a  surer  deliver 
ance. 

At  that  moment  gleamed  the  lightning  ;  the  dark  horsemen 
loomed  large  under  its  yellow  glare  ;  they  were  less  than  fifty 
paces  from  the  muzzles  of  our  guns:  we  could  have  sighted  them 
with  sure  aim;  and,  bayed  as  we  had  been,  I  was  almost  tempted 
to  yield  to  the  solicitations  of  my  companion. 


SCALING   THE    CLIFF.  221 

Just  then,  an  object  came  under  our  eyes  that  caused  both  of 
us  to  draw  back  our  half-levelled  rifles — that  object  was  the 
body  of  our  comrade  Rube.  It  was  lying  flat  upon  the  ground, 
the  arms  and  legs  stretched  out  to  their  full  extent,  and  the 
face  buried  deep  in  the  grass.  From  the  elevation  at  which  we 
viewed  it,  it  appeared  like  the  hide  of  a  young  buffalo  spread 
out  to  dry,  and  pinned  tightly  to  the  turf.  But  we  knew  it  was 
cot  that  ;  we  knew  it  was  the  body  of  a  man  dressed  in  brown 
buckskin — the  body  of  the  earless  trapper  !  It  was  not  dead 
either  ;  no  dead  body  could  have  placed  itself  in  such  an  atti 
tude,  for  it  lay  flattened  along  the  turf  like  a  gigantic  newt. 

The  object  of  this  attitude  was  evident  to  us,  and  our  hearts 
beat  with  a  painful  anxiety  while  the  light  flickered  around. 
The  body  was  scarcely  five  hundred  yards  out ;  but  though 
perfectly  visible  from  our  position,  it  must  have  been  inconspi 
cuous  to  the  horsemen  below  ;  for  as  soon  as  it  darkened,  we 
heard  them,  to  our  great  relief,  ride  back  toward  the  front, 
Ijurra  reiterating  his  doubts  as  they  passed  away.  Fortunate 
it  was  for  both  him  and  his  companion  they  had  not  espied  that 
prostrate  form — fortunate  for  Rube — for  all  of  us  ! 

Garey  and  I  kept  our  places,  and  waited  for  another  flash 
When  it  came,  the  brown  buckskin  was  no  longer  in  sight ! 
Far  off — nearly  a  mile  off,  we  fancied  we  could  distinguish  the 
'  same  form  flattened  out  as  before  ;  but  the  gleam  of  the  prairie- 
grass  rendered  our  vision  uncertain. 

Of  one  thing,  however,  we  wero  certain — our  comrade  had 
escaped, 


THE   WAR-TRAIL. 


CHAPTER    XL. 

A    REINFORCEMENT. 

FOR  the  first  time,  since  encountering  the  guerrilla,  I  breathed 
freely,  and  felt  confident  we  should  get  free.  My  comrade 
shared  my  relief ;  and  it  is  needless  to  say  that  we  recrossed  the 
summit  of  the  mesa  with  lighter  hearts  and  step  more  buoyant. 

Of  course  we  no  longer  speculated  about  making  the  descent; 
with  the  fragment  of  rope  left,  that  was  impossible.  We  were 
simply  returning  to  the  front,  to  keep  an  eye  upon  the  guerril- 
leros,  and,  if  possible  prevent  them  from  approaching  our  horses 
— should  they  by  any  chance  discover  that  we  had  retreated 
from  our  position  behind  the  rock. 

We  were  the  more  anxious  about  our  horses,  now  that  we  had 
less  apprehension  for  ourselves;  at  least  I  can  answer  for  myself, 
and  the  explanation  is  easy.  So  long  as  I  felt  the  probability 
that  every  moment  might  be  the  last  of  my  life,  the  fate  of  Moro 
and  the  white  steed  was  but  a  secondary  consideration.  Now 
that  I  felt  certain  I  should  survive  this  perilous  escapade,  the 
future  once  more  urged  its  claims  ;  and  I  was  anxious  not  only 
to  preserve  my  own  steed,  but  the  beautiful  creatu~»>  that  had 
led  me  into  all  this  peril,  but  whose  capture  still  promised  its 
rich  reward. 

That  all  danger  was  past — that  in  a  few  hours  we  should 
be  free,  was  the  full  belief  both  of  my  companion  and  myself. 
Perhaps  you  may  not  comprehend  from  what  dati  we  drew  so 
confident  and  comfortable  a  conclusion,  though  our  reasoning 
was  simple  enough.  We  knew  that  Rube  would  reach  the  ran 
cheria,  and  return  with  a  rescue-— that  was  all. 


A    REINFORCEMENT. 

'Tis  true  we  were  not  without  some  anxiety.  The  rangers 
might  no  longer  be  there  ? — the  army  might  have  marched  ? — 
perhaps  the  picket  was  withdrawn  ?  Rube  himself  be  might 
intercepted,  or  slain  ? 

The  last  hypothesis  gave  us  least  concern.  We  had  full  trust 
in  the  trapper's  ability  to  penetrate  to  the  American  camp— to 
Jie  enemy's,  if  necessary.  We  had  just  been  favored  with  a 
specimen  of  his  skill.  Whether  the  array  had  advanced  or  not, 
Rube  would  reach  it  before  morning,  if  he  should  have  to  steal 
a  horse  upon  the  way.  He  would  soon  find  the  rangers  ;  and, 
even  without  orders,  Holingsworth  would  lend  him  a  few — half 
a  dozen  of  them  would  be  enough.  In  the  worst  view  of  the  case, 
there  were  stragglers  enough  about  the  camp — odd  birds,  that 
could  easily  be  enlisted  for  such  a  duty.  We  had  scarcely  a 
doubt  that  our  comrade  would  come  back  with  a  rescue. 

As  to  the  time,  we  were  left  to  conjectures.  It  might  be 
before  morning's  light — it  might  not  be  before. late  in  the  follow 
ing  day,  or  even  the  night  after.  But  that  was  a  consideration 
that  now  weighed  lightly.  We  could  hold  our  aerial  fortress 
for  a  week — a  month — ay,  far  longer,  and  against  hundreds. 
We  could  not  be  assailed.  With  our  rifles  to  guard  the  cliff, 
no  storming-party  could  approach — no  forlorn-hope  could  scale 
our  battlements  ! 

But  what  of  thirst  and  hunger,  you  will  ask  ?  Ha  !  we 
dreaded  not  either.  Fortune's  favors  had  fallen  upon  us  in 
showers.  Even  on  that  lone  summit,  we  found  the  means  to 
assuage  the  one  and  satisfy  the  other  ! 

In  crossing  the  table-top,  we  stumbled  upon  huge  echinocadi, 
that  grew  over  the  ground  like  ant-hills  or  gigantic  bee-hives. 
They  were  the  mammiliaria  of  Qaackeoboss — dome-shaped,  and 
some  of  them  ten  feet  in  diameter.  Garey's  knife  was  out  in  a 
trice  ;  a  portion  of  the  spiuous  coat  of  the  largest  was  stripped 
off,  its  top  truncated,  and  a  bowl  scooped  in  the  soft,  succulent 


224  THE    WAR-TRAIL 

mass.  In  another  minute,  we  had  assuaged  our  thirst  from  thia 
vegetable  fountain  of  the  Desert. 

With  similar  facility  were  we  enabled  to  gratify  the  kindred 
appetite.  As  I  had  conjectured,  on  viewing  them  from  the 
plain,  the  trees  of  light-green  foliage  were  "piiion" — the  "nut- 
pine"  (Pinus  edulis),  of  which  there  are  several  species  in  North 
ern  Mexico,  whose  cones  contain  seeds  edible  and  nutritious.  A 
few  handfuls  of  these  we  gathered,  and  hungered  no  more. 
They  would  have  been  better  roasted,  but  at  that  moment  we 
were  contented  to  eat  them  raw. 

JNo  wonder,  then,  that  with  such  a  supply  for  the  present,  and 
such  hopes  for  the  future,  we  no  longer  dreaded  the  impotent 
fury  of  our  foes. 

We  lay  down  at  the  top  of  the  gorge  to  watch  their  further 
movements,  and  cover  our  horses  from  their  attack.  '  The  flash 
of  the  lightning  showed  them  still  on  guard,  just  as  we  had  left 
them.  One  of  each  file  was  mounted,  while  his  companion,  on 
foot,  paced  to  and  fro  in  the  intervals  of  the  cordon.  Their 
measures  were  cunningly  taken  ;  they  were  evidently  determined 
we  should  not  steal  past  them  in  the  darkness  ! 

The  lightning  began  to  abate,  and  the  intervals  between  the 
flashes  became  longer  and  longer. 

During  one  of  these  intervals,  we  were  startled  by  the  sound 
of  hoof-strokes  at  some  distance  off  ;  it  was  the  tramp  of  horses 
upon  the  hard  plain.  There  is  a  difference  between  the  hoof- 
stroke  of  a  ridden  horse  and  one  that  is  riderless,  and  the  prairie- 
man  is  rarely  puzzled  to  distinguish  them.  My  companion  at 
once  pronounced  the  horses  to  be  "  mounted." 

The  guerilleros,  on  the  alert,  had  heard  them  at  the  same 
time  as  we,  and  two  of  them  now  galloped  out  to  reconnoitre. 
This  we  ascertained  only  by  hearing,  for  we  could  not  distinguish 
an  object  six  feet  from  our  faces — the  darkness  was  almost  pal 
pable  to  th(  touch. 


A   EEINFORCEMEJNT.  225 

The  sounds  came  from  a  considerable  distance,  but  we  tould 
tell  that  the  horsemen  were  advancing  toward  the  mesa. 

We  drew  no  hope  from  this  advent.  R-ube  could  not  yet  have 
even  reached  the  rancheria.  The  new-comers  were  El  Zorro 
and  his  companion  on  their  return. 

We  were  not  kept  long  in  doubt  ;  the  horsemen  approached 
and  shouts  and  salutations  were  exchanged  between  them  and 
the  guerrilleros,  while  the  horses  of  both  parties  neighed  in 
response,  as  if  they  knew  each  other. 

At  this  moment  the  lightning  shone  again,  and  to  our  surprise 
we  perceived  not  only  El  Zorro  but  a  reinforcement  of  full  thirty 
men  !  The  trampling  of  many  hoofs  had  half-prepared  us  for 
this  discovery. 

It  was  not  without  feelings  of  alarm  that  we  beheld  this 
accession  to  the  enemy's  strength.  Surely  they  would  no  longer 
hesitate  to  assail  our  fortress  behind  the  rock  ?  At  least  our 
horses  would  be  captured  ?  Besides,  Rube's  rescue  might  be 
too  weak  for  such  a  force  ?  There  were  nearly  fifty. 

Our  anxiety  as  to  the  first  two  points  was  soon  at  an  end. 
To  our  astonishment,  we  perceived  that  no  assault  was  to  be 
made  as  yet.  We  saw  them  increase  the  strength  of  their  cor 
don  of  sentries,  and  make  other  dispositions  to  carry  on  the 
siege.  Evidently  they  regarded  us  as  hunters  do  the  grizzly 
bear,  the  lion,  or  tiger — not  to  be  attacked  in  our  lair.  They 
dreaded  the  havoc  which  they  well  knew  would  be  made  by 
our  rifles  and  revolvers  ;  and  they  determined  to  reduce  us  by 
starvation.  On  no  other  principle  could  we  account  for  the 
continence  of  their  revenge. 


10* 


226  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 


CHAPTER    XLI 

- 

THE    INDIAN    SPY. 

IT  was  past  the  hour  of  midnight.  The  lightning,  that  tor 
some  time  had  appeared  only  at  long  intervals,  now  ceased  alto 
gether.  Its  fitful  glare  gave  place  to  a  softer,  steadier  light, 
for  the  moon  had  arisen,  and  was  climbing  up  the  eastern  sky. 
Cumulus  clouds  still  hung  in  the  heavens,  slowly  floating  across 
the  canopy;  but  their  masses  were  detached,  and  the  azure  fir 
mament  was  visible  through  the  spaces  between.  The  beautiful 
planet  Venus,  and  here  and  there  a  solitary  star,  twinkled  in 
these  blue  voids,  or  gleamed  through  the  filmy  bordering  of  the 
clouds ;  but  the  chiefs  of  the  constellations  alone  were  visible. 
The  moon's  disc  was  clear  and  well  defined,  whiter  from  contrast 
with  the  dark  cumuli ;  and  her  beam  frosted  the  prairie  till 
the  grass  looked  hoar.  There  was  neither  mist  nor  mirage  ; 
the  electric  fluid  had  purged  the  atmosphere  of  its  gases,  an(J 
the  air  was  cool,  limpid,  and  bracing.  Though  the  moon  had 
passed  the  full,  so  brilliant  was  her  beam,  that  an  object  could 
have  been  distinguished  far  off  upon  the  plain,  whose  silvery 
level  extended  on  all  sides  to  the  horizon.  The  thick  black 
clouds,  however,  moving  silently  over  the  sky,  occasioned  long 
intervals  of  eclipse,  during  which  the  prairie,  as  before,  wan 
shrouded  in  sombre  darkness. 

Up  to  this  time,  Garey  and  I  had  remained  by  the  head  of 
the  little  gorge,  through  which  we  had  ascended.  The  moon 
was  behind  us,  for  the  guerrilla  was  on  the  western  side  of  the 
mesa.  The  shadow  of  the  mound  was  thrown  far  out  upon  the 
plain,  and  just  beyond  its  well-defined  edge  was  the  line  of  seiiti- 


THE    INDIAN    SPY.  227 

nels  thickly  posted.  On  our  knees  among  the  low  shrubbery,  we 
were  unseen  by  them,  while  we  commanded  a  perfect  view  of 
the  whole  troop,  as  they  smoked,  chattered,  shouted,  and  sang 
— for  they  gave  such  tokens  of  their  jovial  humor. 

After  quietly  watching  them  for  some  time,  Garey  left  me  to 
take  a  turn  round  the  summit,  and  reconnoitre  the  opposite  or 
eastern  side.  In  that  direction  lay  the  rancheria  ;  and  if  the 
picket  was  still  stationed  there,  we  might  soon  expect  the  res 
cue.  My  rangers  were  not  the  men  to  tarry,  called  forth  on 
such  a  purpose;  and  under  Rube?s  guidance,  they  would  be  most 
likely  to  make  their  approach  by  the  rear  of  the  mound.  Garey, 
therefore,  went  in  that  direction  to  make  his  reconnojssance. 

He  had  not  parted  from  me  more  than  a  minute,  when  a  dark 
object  out  upon  the  plain  attracted  my  glance.  I  fancied  it 
was  the  figure  of  a  man;  it  was  prostrate  and  flattened  against 
the  ground,  just  as  Old  Rube  had  appeared  wh&a  making  his 
escape  !  Surely  it  was  not  he  ?  I  had  but  an  indistinct  vievz 
of  it,  for  it  was  full  six  hundred  yards  from  the  mesa,  and 
directly  beyond  the  line  of  the  guerrilleros.  Just  then  a  cloud 
crossing  the  moon's  disc,  shrouded  the  plain,  and  the  dark  object 
was  no  more  visible. 

I  kept  my  eyes  fixed  on  the  spot,  and  waited  for  the  returning 
light.  When  the  cloud  passed,  the  figure  was  no  longer  where 
I  had  first  noticed  it  ;  but  nearer  to  the  horsemen  I  perceived 
the  same  object,  and  in  the  samo  attitude  as  before  !  It  was 
now  within  less  than  two  hundred  yards  of  the  Mexican  line, 
but  a  bunch  of  tufted  grass  appeared  to  shelter  it  from  the  eyes 
of  the  guerrilleros,  as  none  of  them  gave  any  sign  that  it  WHS 
perceived  by  them.  From  my  elevated  position,  the  grass  did 
not  conceal  it.  I  had  a  clear  view  of  the  figure,  and  was  certain 
it  was  the  body  of  a  man,  and,  still  more,  of  a  naked  man,  for  it 
glistened  under  the  sheen  of  the  moonlight,  as  only  a  naked 
body  would  have  done. 

Up  to  this  time  I  had  fancied,  or  rather  feared,  it  might  be 


228  THE   WAE-TEATL. 

Rube.  I  say  feared— for  I  had  no  wish  to  see  Rube,  upon  his 
return,  present  himself  in  that  fashion  Surely  he  would  not 
come  back  alone?  And  why  should  he  be  thus  playing  the  spy, 
since  he  already  knew  the  exact  position  of  our  enemy  ? 

The  apparition  puzzled  me,  and  I  was  for  a  while  in  doubt. 
But  the  naked  body  reassured  me.  It  could  not  be  Rube.  Th«. 
skin  was  of  a  dark  hue,  but  so  was  that  of  the  old  trapper. 
Though  born  white,  the  sun,  dirt,  gunpowder,  and  grease,  with 
the  smoke  of  many  a  prairie  fire,  had  altered  Rube's  complexion 
to  the  true  copper  tint,  and  in  point  of  colour,  he  had  but  little 
advantage  over  a  full  blood  Indian.  But  Rube  would  not  have 
been  naked  ;  he  never  doffed  his  buckskins.  Besides  the  oily 
glitter  of  that  body  was  not  Rube's  ;  his  "  hide  "  would  not  have 
shone  so  under  the  moonlight.  No  ;  the  prostrate  form  was  not 
his. 

Another  cloud  cast  new  shadows  ;  and  while  these  contin 
ued,  I  saw  no  more  of  the  skulking  figure.  As  the  moon 
again  shone  forth,  I  perceived  that  it  was  gone  from  behind  the 
tuft  of  grass.  I  scanned  the  ground  in  the  immediate  neigh 
borhood.  It  was  not  to  be  seen  ;  but  on  looking  further  out  I 
could  just  distinguish  the  figure  of  a  man,  bent  forward  and 
rapidly  gliding  away.  I  followed  it  with  my  eyes  until  it 
disappeared  in  the  distance,  as  though  it  had  melted  into  the 
moonlight. 

While  gazing  intently  over  the  distant  plain  in  the  direc 
tion  whence  the  figure  had  retreated,  I  was  startled  at  behold 
ing  not  one,  but  many  forms,  dimly  outlined  upon  the  prairie 
edge. 

"  It  was  Rube,"  thought  I  ;  "  and  yonder  are  the  ran 
gers  1" 

I  strained  my  eyes  to  their  utmost.  They  were  horsemen  be 
yond  a  doubt  ;  but,  to  my  astonishment,  instead  of  being  close 
together,  one  followed  another  in  single  file,  until  a  long  line  was 
traced  against  the  sky  like  the  links  of  a  gigantic  chain.  Ex 


THE    CABALLADA.  229 

cept  in  the  narrow  defile,  )r  the  forest-path,  my  rangers  never 
rode  in  that  fashion.  It  could  not  be  they  ! 

At  this  crisis,  a  new  thought  came  into  my  mind.  More  than 
once  in  my  life  had  I  witnessed  a  spectacle  similar  to  that  now 
under  my  eyes — more  than  once  had  I  looked  upon  it  with 
dread.  That  serried  line  was  an  old  jcquaintance  :  it  was  a 
band  of  Indian  warriors  on  their  midnight  march — upon  the  war- 
trail  ! 

The  actions  of  the  spy  were  explained  ;  he  was  an  Indian  run 
ner.  The  party  to  whom  he  belonged  was  about  to  approach 
the  mesa — perhaps  with  the  design  of  encamping  there — he  had 
been  sent  forward  to  reconnoitre  the  ground. 

What  effect  his  tale  would  have,  I  could  not  guess.  I  could 
see  that  the  horsemen  were  halted — perhaps  awaiting  the  return 
of  their  messenger.  They  were  too  distant  to  be  seen  by  the 
Mexicans  ;  and  the  minute  after  they  were  also  invisible  to  my 
eyes  upon  the  darkly  shadowed  prairie. 

Before  communicating  with  Garey,  I  resolved  to  wait  for 
another  gleam  of  moonlight,  so  that  I  might  have  a  more  dis 
tinct  story  to  tell. 


CHAPTER     X  L  I  I . 

THE      CABALLADA. 

IT  was  nearly  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  the  cloud  moved 
away  ;  and  then,  to  my  surprise,  I  saw  a  clump  of  horses — not 
horsemen — upon  the  prairie,  and  scarcely  half  a  mile  distant  from 
the  mesa  !  Not  one  of  them  was  mounted  and,  to  all  appear 
ance,  it  was  a  drove  of  wild-horses  that  had  galloped  up  during 
the  interval  of  darkness,  and  were  now  standing  silent  and  mo 
tionless. 


230  THE   WAK-TRAIL. 

I  strained  my  eyes  upon  the  distant  prairie,  but  the  dim  horse 
men  were  no  longer  to  be  seen.  They  must  have  ridden  off 
beyond  the  range  of  vision  ? 

I  was  about  to  seek  my  comrade  and  communicate  to  him 
what  had  passed,  when  on  rising,  to  my  feet,  I  found  him  stand 
ing  by  my  side.  He  had  been  all  around  the  summit  without 
seeing  aught,  and  had  returned  to  satisfy  himself  that  the  guer 
rilla  was  still  quiet. 

"  Hillow  !"  he  exclaimed,  as  his  eyes  fell  upon  the  calallada> 
"  What  the  darnation's  yonder,  a  drove  o'  wild  bosses  ?  It's 
mighty  strange  them  niggers  don't  notice  'em  !  By  the  etar- 
nal » 

I  know  not  what  Garey  meant  to  have  said.  His  words  were 
drowned,  by  the  wild  yell  that  broke  simultaneously  from  the 
Mexican  line  ;  and  the  next  moment  the  whole  troop  were  seen 
springing  to  their  saddles,  and  putting  themselves  in  motion. 

We,  of  course,  supposed  they  had  just  discovered  the  caballada 
of  wild  horses,  and  it  was  that  that  was  producing  this  sudden 
stampede.  What  was  our  astonishment  on  perceiving  that  we 
ourselves  were  the  cause  of  the  alarm  ;  for  the  guerrilleros  in 
stead  of  fronting  to  the  plain,  rode  closer  up  to  the  cliff,  and 
screaming  wildly,  fired  their  carbines  at  us !  Among  the  rest 
we  could  distinguish  the  great  gun  of  El  Zorro,  and  the  hiss  of 
its  leaden  bullet,  as  it  passed  close  to  our  ears  I 

We  were  puzzled  at  first  to  know  how  they  had  discovered 
us.  A  glance  explained  that  the  moon  had  risen  higher  in  the 
heavens,  and  the  shadow  cast  by  the  mound  had  been  gradually 
foreshortened.  While  gazing  out  at  the  caballada,  we  had  in 
cautiously  kept  our  feet,  and  our  figures,  magnified  to  gigantic 
proportions,  were  thrown  forward  upon  the  plain  directly  under 
the  eyes  of  our  enemies.  They  had  but  to  look  up  to  see  us 
where  we  stood. 

Instantly  we  knelt  down  among  the  bushes,  clutching  our  rifles. 
The  surprise  occasioned  by  our  appearance  upon  the  cliff,  seemed 


TH1C    CAB ALL AD A. 

to  have  deprived  our  enemies,  for  the  moment,  of  their  habitual 
prudence,  as  several  of  them  rode  boldly  within  range.  Per 
haps  they  were  some  of  the  late  arrivals.  In  the  dark  shadow 
we  could  not  make  out  their  forms  ;,but  one  had  the  misfortune 
to  be  mounted  on  a  white  horse,  and  that  guided  the  trapper's 
aim.  I  saw  him  glancing  along  his  barrel,  and  heard  the  sharp 
3rack.  I  fancied  I  heard  a  stifled  groan  from  below,  and  the 
next  moment  the  white  horse  was  seen  galloping  out  into  the 
moonlight,  but  the  rider  was  no  longer  upon  his  back. 

Another  cloud  passed  over  the  moon,  and  the  plain  was  again 
shrouded  from  our  sight.  Garey  was  proceeding  to  reload,  when 
a  cry  arose  amidst  the  darkness,  that  caused  him  to  pause  and 
listen.  The  cry  was  again  repeated,  and  then  uttered  continu 
ously  with  that  wild  intonation  which  can  alone  proceed  from 
the  throat  of  the  savage.  It  was  not  the  guerrilla  that  was 
uttering  that  cry  ;  it  was  the  yell  of  the  Indian  warrior. 

"  Comanche  war-hoop  1"  cried  Garey,  after  listening  a  moment. 
"  Comanche  war-hoop  ?  by  the  etarnal  !  Hooraw  !  the  Injuns 
are  upon  'em  1" 

Amidst  the  cries,  we  could  hear  the  rapid  trampling  of 
horses,  and  the  ground  appeared  to  vibrate  under  the  quick 
heavy  tread.  Each  moment  the  strokes  sounded  nearer.  The 
savages  were  charging  the  guerrilla  ! 

The  moon  shot  forth  from  the  cloud.  There  was  no  longer  a 
doubt.  The  wild-horses  were  mounted  ;  each  carried  an  Indian 
naked  to  the  waist,  his  painted  body  glaring  red  in  the  moon 
light,  and  terrible  to  behold. 

By  this  time  the  Mexicans  had  all  mounted  and  faced  towards 
the  unexpected  foe,  but  with  evident  signs  of  irresolution  in 
their  ranks.  They  wou'.d  never  stand  the  charge — no,  never. 
So  said  Garey  and  he  was  right. 

The  savages  had  advanced  within  less  than  a  hundred  paces 
of  the  Mexican  line,  when  they  were  observed  to  pull  suddenly 
up.  It  was  but  a  momentary  halt — just  time  enough  to  enable 


232  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

them  to  mark  the  formation  of  their  foes,  and  seid  a  flight  of 
arrows  into  their  midst.  That  done,  they  dashed  onward,  utter 
ing  their  wild  yells  and  brandishing  their  long  spears. 

The  guerrilleros  only  waited  to  discharge  their  carbines  and 
escopettes  ;  they  did  not  think  of  reloading.  Most  of  them 
flung  away  their  guns  as  soon  as  they  had  fired,  and  the  retreat 
began.  The  whole  troop  turned  its  back  upon  the  enemy,  and 
spurring  their  horses  to  a  gallop,  came  sweeping  round  the  base 
of  the  mesa  in  headlong  flight. 

The  Indians,  uttering  their  demoniac  yells,  followed  as  fast. 
They  were  rendered  more  furious  tha't  their  hated  foe  was  likely  to 
escape  them.  The  latter  were  indebted  to  us  for  having  put  them 
upon  the  alert.  But  for  that  circumstance,  the  Indians  would 
have  charged  them  while  dismounted,  and  far  different  might 
have  been  their  fate.  Mounted  and  ready  for  flight,  most  of 
them  would  probably  get  clear. 

The  moment  we  saw  the  direction  the  chase  was  about  to  take, 
Garey  and  I  rushed  across  the  summit  to  that  side.  From  the 
brow  of  the  precipice,  our  view  was  perfect,  and  we  could  see 
both  parties  as  they  passed  along  its  base  directly  below  us. 
Both  were  riding  in  straggling  clumps,  and  scarcely  two  hundred 
paces  separated  the  rearmost  of  the  pursued  from  the  headmost 
of  the  pursuers.  The  latter  still  uttered  their  war-cry,  while  the 
former  now  rode  in  silence — their  breath  bound,  and  their  voices 
hushed  in  the  deathlike  stillness  of  terror. 

All  at  once  a  cry  arose  from  the  guerrilla — short,  quick,  and 
despairing — the  voice  of  some  new  consternation  ;  at  the  same 
moment,  the  whole  troop  were  seen  to  pull  up. 

"We  looked  for  the  cause  of  this  extraordinary  conduct  :  our 
eyes  and  our  ears  both  guided  us  to  the  explanation.  From  the 
opposite  direction,  and  scarcely  three  hundred  yards  distant, 
appeared  a  band  of  horsemen  coming  up  at  a  gallop.  They 
were  right  in  the  moon's  eye,  and  we  could  see  glancing  arms, 
and  hear  loud  voices.  The  hoofs  could  "  e  heard  pounding  the 


THE    CAJBALLADA. 

prairie,  and  my  companion  and  I  recognized  the  heavy  *read  of 
the  American  horse.  Still  more  certain  were  we  about  that 
boarse  "  hurrah."  Neither  Indian  nor  Mexican  could  have  ut 
tered  that  well-known  shout. 

"  Hooraw  ! — the  rangers  I"  cried  Garey,  as  he  echoed  the 
cry  at  the  full  pitch  of  his  voice. 

The  guerrilleros,  stupefied  by  surprise  at  sight  of  this  new 
enemy,  had  paused  for  a  moment — no  doubt  fancying  it  was 
another  party  of  Indians.  Their  halt  was  of  short  dusation  ; 
the  dim  light  favoured  them  ;  rifles  already  played  upon  their 
ranks  ;  and  suddenly  wheeling  to  the  left,  they  struck  out  into 
the  open  plain. 

The  Indians,  seeing  them  turn  off,  leaned  into  the  diagonal 
line  to  intercept  them  ;  but  the  rangers,  already  close  up,  had 
just  made  a  similar  movement,  and  savage  and  Saxon  were  now 
obliquing  towards  each  other. 

The  moon  that  for  some  minutes  had  been  yielding  but  a 
faint  light,  became  suddenly  eclipsed  by  a  cloud,  and  the  dark 
ness  was  now  greater  than  ever.  Garey  and  I  saw  no  more  of 
the  strife  ;  but  we  heard  the  shock  of  the  opposing  bands  ;  we 
heard  the  war-whoop  of  the  savage  mingling  with  the  rangers' 
vengeful  shout  ;  we  heard  the  "  crack,  crack,  crack,"  of  yager 
rifles,  and  the  quick  detonations  of  revolvers — the  clashing  of 
sabre-blades  upon  spear  shafts — the  ring  of  breaking  steel — the 
neighing  of  steeds — the  victor's  cry  of  triumph — and  tie  deep 
anguished  groan  of  the  victim. 

With  anxious  hearts,  and  nerves  excited  to  their  utmost,  we 
stood  upon  the  cliff,  and  listened  to  these  sounds  of  dread  im 
port. 

Not  long  did  they  last.  The  fierce  struggle  was  soon  over. 
When  the  moon  gleamed  forth  again,  the  battle  was  ended. 
Prostrate  forms,  both  of  men  and  horse,  were  lying  upon  the 
plain. 

Far  to  the  south,  a  dark  clump  was  seen  disappearing  over 


THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

the  prairie's  edge  ;  it  was  the  cowardly  guerrilla.  To  the  west 
horsemen  galloped  away  alone,  or  in  straggling  groups  ;  but 
the  cheer  of  triumph  that  reached  us  from  the  scene  of  strife 
told  us  who  were  the  masters  of  the  ground.  The  rangers  had 
triumphed. 

"  Whur  ur  ye,  Bill  ?"  cried  a  voice  from  the  bottom  of  the 
*jliff,  which  both  of  us  easily  recognized. 

-"  Hyar  I  be,"  answered  Garey. 

"  Wai,  we've  gin  them  Injuns  goss,  I  reck'n  ;  but  cuss  the 
lack,  the  yeller-bellies  hev  got  clur  off.  Wagh  !" 


CHAPTER    XLIII. 

A      CHAPTER      OF      EXPLANATIONS. 

THE  fight  could  not  have  lasted  more  than  ten  minutes.  Tht 
whole  skirmish  had  the  semblance  of  a  moonlight  dream,  inter 
rupted  by  interludes  of  darkness.  So  rapid  had  been  the  move 
ments  of  the  forces  engaged,  that  after  the  first  fire  not  a  gun 
was  reloaded.  As  for  the  guerrilleros,  the  Indian  war-cry  seem 
ed  to  have  shaken  the  pieces  out  of  their  hands,  for  the  ground 
where  they  had  first  broken  off  was  literally  strewed  with  car 
bines,  escopettes,  and  lances.  The  great  gun  of  El  Zorro  was 
found  among  the  spoils. 

Notwithstanding  the  shortness  of  the  affair,  it  proved  suffi 
ciently  tragical  to  both  Mexicans  and  Indians:  five  of  the  guer 
rilleros  had  bit  the  dust,  and  twice  that  number  of  savage 
warriors  lay  lifeless  upon  the  plain — their  bodies  glaring  under 
the  red  war-paint,  as  if  shrouded  in  blood.  The  Mexicans  lay 
near  the  foot  of  the  mesa,  having  fallen  under  the  first  fire  of  the 


A.   CHAPTER    OF   EXPLANATIONS.  236 

Rangers,  delivered  as  they  galloped  up.  The  Indians  were 
further  out  upon  the  plain,  where  they  had  dropped  to  the  thick 
rapid  detonations  of  the  revolvers,  that,  so  long  as  the  warriors 
held  their  ground,  played  upon  them  with  fearful  effect.  They 
may  have  heard  of  this  weapon,  and  perhaps  have  seen  a  revol 
ver  in  the  hands  of  some  trapper  or  traveller,  but,  to  my  know 
ledge,  it  was  the  first  time  they  had  ever  encountered  a  band  of 
men  armed  with  so  terrible  a  power  to  destroy;  for  the  Rangers 
were  indeed  the  first  military  organisation  that  carried  Colt's 
pistol  into  battle — the  high  cost  of  the  arm  having  deterred  the 
government  from  extending  it  to  other  branches  of  the  service. 

Nor  did  the  Rangers  themselves  come  unscathed  oat  of  the 
fight:  two  had  dropped  dead  out  of  their  saddles,  pierced  by  the 
Comanche  spear;  while  nearly  a  dozen  were  more  or  less  severely 
wounded  by  arrows. 

While  Quackenboss  was  climbing  the  cliff,  Garey  and  I  found 
time  to  talk  over  the  strange  incidents  to  which  we  had  been 
witness.  We  were  aided  by  explanations  from  below,  but,  with 
out  these,  we  had.  no  difficulty  in  comprehending  all.  The 
Indians  were  a  band  of  Comanches,  as  their  war-cry  had  already 
made  known  to  us.  Their  arrival  on  the  ground  at  that  moment 
was  purely  accidental,  so  far  as  we  or  the  Mexicans  were  con 
cerned;  it  was  a  war-party,  and  upon  the  war-trail,  with  tho 
intention  of  reiving  a  rich  Mexican  town  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Rio .  Grande,  some  twenty  leagues  from  the  rancheria.  Their 
spy  had  discovered  the  horsemen  by  the  mesa,  and  made  them 
out  to  be  Mexicans — a  foe  which  the  lordly  Comanche  holds  iri 
supreme  contempt.  Not  so  contemptible  in  his  eyes  are  Mexican 
horses,  silver-studded  saddles,  speckled  serapes,  mangas  of  fine 
cloth,  bell-buttoned  breeches,  arms,  and  accoutrements;  and  il 
was  to  sweep  this  paraphernalia  that  the  attack  had  been  made; 
though  hereditary  hatred  of  the  Spanish  race — old  as  the  Con 
quest — and  revenge  for  more  recent  wrongs,  were  of  themselves 
sufficient  motives  to  have  impelled  the  Indians  to  ;heir  hostile 


236  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

attempt.  All  this  we  learned  from  one  of  their  braves,  whc 
remained  wounded  upon  the  ground,  and  who,  upon  closer  ex 
amination,  turned  out  to  be  a  ci-decant  Mexican  captive,  now 
completely  Indianised  ! 

Fortunately  for  the  Mexican  town,  the  savages,  thus  checked, 
abandoned  their  design,  and  return  to  their  mountain  fastnesses 
gadly  humbled. 

The  rest  of  the  affair  was  still  of  easier  explanation  to  Garey 
and  myself.  Rube,  as  we  conjectured,  had  arrived  safe  at  the 
rancheria;  and  in  ten  minutes  after  his  story  had  been  told,  fifty 
Rangers,  with  Holingsworth  at  their  head,  rode  rapidly  for  the 
mesa.  Rube  had  guided  them  with  his  usual  craft.  Like  the 
Indians,  they  had  been  moving  forward  during  the  intervals  of 
darkness;  but,  coming  in  the  opposite  direction,  they  had  kept 
the  mound  between  them  and  their,  foe,  and,  trusting  to  this 
advantage,  were  in  hopes  of  taking  the  guerrilleros  by  surprise. 
They  had  approached  almost  within  charging  distance,  when  the 
war-whoop  of  the  savage  sounded  in  their  ears,  and  they  were 
met  by  the  retreating  band.  Knowing  that  all  who  came  that 
way  must  be  enemies,  they  delivered  their  fire  upon  the  approach 
ing  horsemen,  and  then  galloping  forward,  found  themselves  face 
to  face  with  the  painted  warriors  of  the  plains.  The  mutual 
surprise  of  Rangers  and  Indians,  caused  by  the  unexpected  ren 
contre,  proved  a  happy  circumstance  for  the  cowardly  guerrilla, 
who,  during  the  short  halt  of  their  double  pursuers,  and  the  con 
fused  fight  that  followed,  were  enabled  to  gallop  off  beyond  reach 
of  pursuit. 

It  was  a  curious  conjecture  what  would  have  been  the  result 
had  the  Rangers  not  arrived  on  the  ground.  Certainly  the  In 
dians  would  have  rescued  us  from  our  not  less  savage  foes.  My 
companion  and  I  might  have  remained  undiscovered,  but  we 
should  have  lost  our  precious  horses.  As  it  was,  we  were  soon 
once  more  upon  their  backs;  and,  free  from  all  thought  of  peril, 
now  joyfully  turned  our  faces  towards  the  rancheria. 


A   CHAPTER   OF   EXPLANATIONS.  237 

Wheatley  rode  by  my  side.  Holingsworth  with  a  party  re 
mained  upon  the  ground  to  collect  the  "spoils"  and  bury  our 
unfortunate  comrades.  As  we  moved  away,  I  turned,  and  for  a 
moment  gazed  back  on  the  scene  cf  strife.  I  saw  Holingsworth 
dismounted  on  the  plain.  He  was  moving  among  the  bodies  of 
the  five  guerrilleros  ;  one  after  another,  he  turned  them  over, 
till  the  moon  glared  upon  their  ghastly  features.  So  odd  were 
his  movements,  and  so  earnest  did  he  appear,  that  one  might 
have  fancied  him  engaged  in  searching  for  a  fallen  friend,  or 
more  like  some  prowling  robber  intent  upon  stripping  the  dead! 
But  neither  object  was  his — on  the  contrary,  he  was  searching 
for  a  foe.  He  found  him  not.  After  scanning  the  features  of 
all  five,  he  was  seen  to  turn  away,  and  the  unconcerned  manner 
in  which  he  moved  from  the  spot,  told  that  he  who  was  sought 
#as  not  among  the  slain. 

"  The  news,  Wheatley  ?" 

"News,  Cap!  Grand  news,  by  thunder!  It  appears  we 
have  been  barking  up  the  wrong  tree — at  least  so  thinks  Presi 
dent  Polk.  They  say  we  can't  reach  Mexico  on  this  line  ;  so 
we're  all  going  to  be  drawn  off,  and  shipped  to  some  port  further 
down  the  gulf — Yera  Cruz,  I  believe." 

"  Ah!  grand  news  indeed." 

"  I  don't  like  it  a  bit,"  continued  Wheatley;  "  the  less  so  since 
it  is  rumoured  that  old  "  Rough  and  Ready  "  is  to  be  recalled, 
and  we're  to  be  commanded  by  that  book  martinet  Scott.  It's 
shabby  treatment  of  Taylor,  after  what  the  old  vet  has  accom 
plished.  They're  afraid  of  him  setting  up  for  president  next  go. 
Hang  their  politics  1  It's  a  confounded  shame,  by  thunder  !" 

I  could  partly  understand  Wheatley's  reluctance  to  be  ordered 
upon  the  new  line  of  operations.  The  gay  lieutenant  was  never 
troubled  with  ennui;  his  leisure  hours  he  contrived  to  pass  pleas 
antly  enough  in  company  with  Conchita,  the  plump,  dark-eyed 
daughter  of  the  alcalde  ;  more  than  once,  I  had  unwittingly  in 
terrupted  them  in  their  amorous  dalliance.  The  rancheria,  with 


238  THE    WAK-TKAIL. 

its  mnd  huts  and  dusty  lanes,  in  the  eyes  of  the  Texan,  was  a 
city  of  gilded  palaces,  its  streets  paved  with  gold.  It  was 
Wheatley's  heaven,  and  Conchita  was  the  angel  who  inhabited 
it.  Little  as  either  he  or  I  had  liked  the  post  at  first,  neither  of 
us  desired  a  charge  of  quarters. 

As  yet,  no  order  had  arrived  to  call  the  picket  in,  but  my 
companion  affirmed  that  the  camp-rumor  was  a  substantial  one, 
and  believed  that  we  might  expect  such  a  command  at  any 
moment. 

"  What  say  they  of  me  ?"  I  inquired. 

"  Of  you,  Cap  ?  Why  nothing.  What  do  you  expect  them 
to  say  of  you  ?" 

"  Surely  there  has  been  some  talk  about  my  absence  ?" 

"  Oh,  that  1  No,  not  a  word,  at  least  at  head-quarters, 
for  the  simple  reason,  that  you're  not  yet  reported  mis 
sing." 

"  Ah,  that  is  good  news  ;  but  how  " 

"  Why,  the  truth  is,  Holingsworth  and  I  thought  we  might 
serve  you  better  by  keeping  the  thing  dark — at  all  events,  till 
we  should  be  sure  you  were  dead  lost.  We  had'nt  given  up  all 
hope.  The  greaser  who  guided  you  out,  brought  back  word 
that  two  trappers  had  gone  after  you.  From  his  description,  I 
knew  that  queer  old  case  Rube,  and  was  satisfied  that  if  any 
thing  remained  of  you  he  was  the  man  to  find  it." 

"  Thanks,  my  friend,  you  have  acted  well  j  your  discreet  con 
duct  will  save  me  a  world  of  mortification." 

"  No  other  news?"  I  inquired  after  a  pause. 

"  No,"  said  Wheatley  ;  "  none  worth  telling.  O  yes  \n  he 
continued,  suddenly  recollecting  himself,  ' '  there  is  a  bit.  You 
remember  those  hang  dog  greasers  that  used  to  loaf  about  the 
village  when  we  first  came  ?  Well,  they  're  gone,  by  thunder  ! 
every  mother's  son  of  them  clean  vamosed  faom  the  place,  and  not 
a  grease-spot  left  of  them.  You  may  walk  through  the  whole 
settlement  without  seeing  a  Mexican,  except  the  old  men  and 


A   CHAPTER   OF   EXPLANATIONS.  239 

the  women.  I  asked  the  alcalde  where  they  had  cLo-red  to, 
but  the  old  chap  only  shook  his  head,  and  drawled  out  nis  eter 
nal  "  Quien  sabe  ?"  Of  course  they  're  off  to  join  some  band  of 
guerrillas.  By  thunder  I  when  1  think  of  it,  I  wouldn't  wonder 
if  they  were  among  that  lot  we  have  just  scattered.  Sure  as 
shootin,  they  are  !  I  saw  Holingsworth  examine  the  five  dead 
ones  as  we  rode  off.  He'll  know  them,  I  guess,  and  can  tell  us 
if  any  of  our  old  acquaintances  are  among  them." 

Knowing  more  of  this  matter  than  Wheatley  himself,  I  en 
lightened  him  as  to  the  guerrilleros  and  their  leader. 

"  Thought  so,  by  thunder  !  Rafael  Ijurra  !  No  wonder 
Holingsworth  was  so  keen  to  start — in  such  a  hurry  to  reach 
the  mound,  he  forgot  to  tell  me  who  we  were  after.  Deuce  take 
it !  what  fools  we've  been  to  let  these  fellows  slide.  We  should 
have  strung  up  every  man  of  them  when  we  first  reached  the 
place — we  should,  by  thunder  !" 

For  some  minutes  we  rode  on  in  silence.  Twenty  times  a 
question  was  upon  my  lips,  but  I  refrained  from  putting  it,  in 
hopes  that  Wheatley  might  have  something  more  to  tell  me— 
something  of  more  interest  that  aught  he  had  yet  communicated. 
He  remained  provokingly  silent. 

With  the  design  of  drawing  him  out,  I  assumed  a  more  care 
less  air  and  inquired  : 

"  Have  we  had  no  visitors  at  the  post  ?  Any  one  from  the 
camp  ?" 

"  Not  a  soul,"  replied  he,  and  again  relapsed  into  medita 
tive  silence." 

"  No  visitors  whatever  ?  Has  no  one  inquired  for  me '{"  I 
asked,  determined  to  come  boldly  to  the  point. 

"  No,"  was  the  discouraging  reply.  "  O,  stay  :  oh,  ah — yes, 
indeed  !"  he  added,  correcting  himself,  while  I  could  perceive 
that  he  spoke  in  a  peculiar  tone.  "  Yes,  you  were  inquired  for." 

"  By  whom  ?"  asked  I,  in  a  careless  drawl. 

"  Well,  that  I  can't  tell,"  answered  the  lieutenant  in  an  evident 


24:0  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

tone  of  badinage  ;  "  but  there  appears  to  be  somebody  mighty 
uneasy  about  you.  A  slip  of  a  Mexican  boy  has  been  back 
ward  and  forward  something  less  than  a  million  of  times.  It'? 
plain  somebody  sends  the  boy  ;  but  he's  a  close  little  shaver  that 
same — won't  tell  who  sends  him,  or  what's  his  business  ;  he  only 
inquires  if  you  have  returned,  and  looks  dead  down  in  the  mouth 
when  he's  told  no.  I  have  noticed  that  he  comes  and  goes  on 
the  road  that  leads  to  the  hacienda?' 

The  last  words  were  spoken  with  a  distinct  emphasis.  "  We 
might  have  arrested  the  little  fellow  as  a  spy,"  continued 
Wheatley,  in  a  tone  of  quiet  irony,  "  but  we  fancied  he  might 
have  been  sent  by  some  friend  of  yours." 

The  speaker  concluded  with  another  marked  emphasis,  and 
under  the  moonlight  I  could  see  a  smile  playing  across  his  fea 
tures.  More  than  once  I  had  "  chaffed "  my  lieutenant  about 
Conchita  j  he  was  having  his  revenge. 

I  was  not  in  a  mood  to  take  offence  ;  my  companion  could 
have  taken  any  liberty  with  me  at  that  moment — his  communi 
cation  had  fallen  like  sweet  music  upon  my  ears,  and  I  rode  for 
ward  with  the  proud  consciousness  that  I  was  not  forgotten. 
Isolina  was  true. 

Soon  after,  my  eyes  rested  upon  a  shining  object ;  it  was  the 
gilded  vane  of  the  little  capilla,  and  beneath  glistened  the  white 
walls  of  the  hacienda,  bathed  in  the  milky  light  of  the  moon. 
My  heart  beat  with  strange  emotions  as  I  gazed  upon  the 
well-known  mansion,  and  thought  of  the  lovely  jewel  which 
that  bright  casket  contained.  Was  she  asleep  ?  Did  she  oteana 
— of  what- — of  whom,  was  she  dreaming  ? 


DUTCH   LIGE   IN    A   DIFFICULTY.  241 


CHAPTER      XLIV. 

DUTCH    LIGE     IN    A    DIFFICULTY. 

THE  soft  blue  light  of  morning  was  just  perceptible  along  the 
eastern  horizon  as  we  rode  into  the  rancheria.  I  no  longer  felt 
hunger.  Some  of  the  more  provident  of  the  rangers  had  brought 
with  them  well  filled  haversacks,  and  made  me  welcome  to  the 
contents.  From  their  canteens  I  had  satisfied  my  thirst,  and 
Wheatley,  as  usual,  carried  his  free  flask. 

Relieved  of  the  protracted  strain  upon  my  nerves — of  fear 
and  vigil — I  felt  deadly  weary,  and,  scarcely  undressing  I  flung 
myself  upon  my  leathern  catre  and  at  once  fell  asleep. 

A  few  hours  repose  had  the  desired  effect,  and  restared  both 
the  strength  of  my  body  and  the  vigour  of  my  mind.  I  awoke, 
full  of  health  and  hope.  A  world  of  sweet  anticipations  was 
before  me.  The  sky  and  fortune  were  both  smiling. 

I  made  my  toilet  with  some  care — my  desayuna  with  less — 
and  then,  with  lighted  cigar,  ascended  to  my  favorite  lounge  on 
the  azotea. 

The  beautiful  captive  was  in  the  midst  of  a  crowd  proudly 
curving  his  neck,  as  if  conscious  of  the  admiration  he  excited. 
The  rangers,  the  poblanas,  the  hucksters  of  the  plaza,  even 
some  sulky  leperos  stood  near,  gazing  with  wondering  eyes  upon 
the  wild  horse. 

"  Splendid  present,"  thought  I — "  worthy  the  acceptance  of  a 
princess  1" 

It  had  been  my  intention  to  make  the  offering  in  person — 
hence  the  care  bestowed  upon  my  toilet.  After  more  mature 
reflection,  I  abandoned  this  design.  I  was  influenced  by  a  va 
il 


24-2  THE  WAR-TRAIL. 

riety  ot  considerations — one,  among  others  being  &  delicate 
apprehension  that  a  personal  visit  from  me  might  compromise 
the  family  at  the  hacienda.  The  patriotic  sentiment  was  every 
day  growing  more  intense.  Even  the  acceptance  of  a  present 
was  a  dangerous  matter  ;  but  the  steed  was  not  to  be  a  gift — 
only  a  return  for  the  favourite  that  had  fallen  by  my  hand — and 

was  not  to  appear  in  the  character  of  a  donor. 

My  sable  groom,  therefore,  would  convey  the  beautiful  cap 
tive.  Already  the  white  lazo  formed  into  a  halter,  was  adjusted 
around  the  animal's  head,  and  the  negro  only  awaited  orders  to 
lead  him  away. 

I  confess  that  at  that  moment  I  felt  somewhat  annoyed  at  the 
publicity  of  my  affair.  My  rough  rangers  were  men  of  keen 
intelligence.  I  could  tell  from  some  whispers  that  had  reached 
me,  that  one  and  all  of  them  knew  why  I  had  gone  upon  the 
wild  hunt,  and  I  dreaded  their  good-humoured  satire.  I  would 
have  given  something  at  that  moment  to  have  rendered  the  steed 
invisible — to  have  been  able  to  transport  him  to  his  destination, 
Yenus-like,  under  cover  of  a  cloud.  I  thought  of  waiting  for 
the  friendly  shelter  of  night. 

Just  then,  however,  and  incident  occurred  which  gave  me  the 
very  opportunity  I  wanted — a  scene  so  ludicrous,  that  the  steed 
was  no  longer  the  cynosure  of  admiring  eyes.  The  hero  ofHhis 
scene  was  Elijah  Quackenboss. 

Of  all  the  men  in  my  band,  "  Dutch  Lige  n  was  the  worst  clad. 
Not  that  there  was  less  money  expended  upon  his  outward  man ; 
but  partly  from  his  ungainly  form  and  loose  untidy  habits,  and 
more,  perhaps,  from  the  wear  and  tear  caused  by  his  botanising 
excursions,  a  suit  of  broadcloth  did  not  keep  sound  upon  him  for 
a  week.  He  was  habitually  in  tatters. 

The  skirmish  of  the  night  had  been  profitable  to  Lige;  it  was 
his  true  aim  that  had  brought  down  one  of  the  five  guerrilleros. 
On  his  asserting  this,  his  comrades  had  laughed  at  it  as  an  idle 
vaunt;  but  Quackenboss  proved  his  assertion  to  be  correct  by 


DUTCH  LIGE   IN  A   DIFFICULTY.  24:3 

picking  his  bullet  out  of  the  man's  body,  and  holding  it  up  before 
theii  eyes.  The  peculiar  "bore"  of  his  rifle  rendered  the  bullet 
easy  of  identification,  and  all  agreed  that  Lige  had  shot  his 
man. 

By  the  laws  of  ranger-war,  the  spoils  of  this  particular  indi 
vidual  became  the  property  of  Quackenboss;  and  the  result  was, 
that  he  had  shaken  off  his  tattered  rags,  and  now  appeared  in 
the  plaza  in  full  Mexican  costume — comprising  calzoneros  and 
^alzoncillos,  sash  and  scrape,  jacket  and  glazed  hat,  botas  with 
gigantic  spurs — in  short,  a  complete  set  of  ranchero  habili 
ments  ! 

Never  was  such  a  pair  of  legs  incased  in  Mexican  velveteens 
— never  were  two  such  arms  thrust  into  the  sleeves  of  an  em 
broidered  jaqueta  •  and  so  odd  was  the  tout  ensemble  of  the  ranger 
thus  attired,  that  his  appearance  in  the  plaza  was  hailed  by  a 
loud  burst  of  laughter,  both  from  his  comrades  and  the  native? 
who  stood  around.  Even  the  gloomy  Indians  shawed  their 
white  teeth,  and  joined  in  the  general  chorus. 

But  this  was  not  the  end.  Among  other  spoils,  Lige  had 
made  capture  of  a  Comanche  mustang;  and  as  his  own  war-horse 
had  been  for  a  long  time  on  the  decline,  this  afforded  him  an  ex 
cellent  opportunity  for  a  remount.  Some  duty  of  the  day  had 
called  him  forth,  and  he  now  appeared  in  the  plaza  leading  the 
mustang,  to  which  he  had  transferred  his  own  saddle  and  bridle. 
A  fine  handsome  horse  it  appeared.  More  than  one  of  his  com 
rades  envied  him  this  splendid  prize. 

The  laughter  had  scarcely  subsided,  when  the  order  was  give;, 
to  mount;  and  with  others,  Quackenboss  sprang  to  his  horse. 
But  his  hips  were  hardly  snug  in  the  saddle,  when  the  wicked 
Comanche  "humped"  his  back  and  entered  upon  a  round  of 
kicking  which  seemed  to  exhibit  every  pose  and  attitude  of 
equestrian  exercise.  First  his  hind-feet,  then  his  fore  ones,  then  all 
together,  could  be  seen  glancing  in  the  air.  Now  a  hoof  whizzed 
past  the  ear  of  the  affrighted  rider,  now  a  set  of  teeth  threaten 


THE    WAK-1KAIL. 

ed  his  thighs,  while  every  moment  he  appeared  in  danger  of  be 
ing  hurled  with  violence. to  the  earth.  The  sombrero  had  long 
since  parted  from  his  head,  and  the  rifle  from  his  nand;  and  what 
with  the  flapping  of  the  wide  trousers,  the  waving  of  the  loose 
serapd,  the  dancing  of  the  steel  scabbard,  the  distracted  motion 
of  the  rider's  arms,  his  lank  streaming  hair  and  look  of  terror — • 
all  combined  to  form  a  spectacle  sufficiently  ludicrous;  and  the 
whole  crowd  was  convulsed  with  laughter,  and  the  plaza  rang 
with  shouts  of  "  Bravo  1"  ''  Well  done,  Lige  !"  "  Hooraw  for 
you,  old  beeswax  1" 

But  what  surprised  his  comrades,  was  the  fact  that  Quacken- 
boss  still  kept  his  seat.  It  was  well  known  that  he  was  the 
worst  rider  in  the  troop  ;  yet  despite  all  the  doubling  and  fling 
ing  of  the  mustang,  that  had  now  lasted  for  several  minutes,  he 
was  still  safe  in  the  saddle.  He  was  winning  golden  opinions 
upon  the  strength  of  his  splendid  horsemanship  !  The  rangers 
were  being  astonished. 

All  at  once,  however,  this  mystery  was  explained,  and  the 
cause  of  his  firm  seat  discovered.  One  of  the  bystanders, 
sharper  than  the  rest,  had  chanced  to  look  under  the  belly  of 
the  mustang,  and  the  next  moment  shouted  out : 

"Hoy  !  look  yonder  !  by  Geehorum,  his  spurs  are  clenched!" 

All  eyes  were  lowered,  and  a  fresh  peal  of  laughter  broke 
forth  from  the  crowd  as  they  perceived  that  this  was  in  reality 
the  case. 

Lige,  upon  mounting — under  the  suspicion  that  the  mustang 
was  disposed  for  a  fling — had  clutched  firmly  with  his  legs,  and 
these,  on  account  of  their  extreme  length,  completely  enveloped 
the  body  of  the  animal,  so  that  his  heels  met  underneath.  He 
had  forgotten  his  new  spurs,  the  rowels  of  which,  six  inches  in 
diameter,  irritated  the  mustang  and  were  no  doubt  the  cause 
of  such  violent  kicking.  These,  after  a  few  turns,  had  got 
"  locked,"  and  of  course  held  Quackenboss  as  firmly  as  if  he  had 
been  strapped  to  the  saddle.  But  as  the  rowels  were  now 


A   LOVEE   ON   THE   TRAIL.  245 

ouried  in  the  ribs  of  the  mustang,  the  fierce  brute,  maddened 
with  the  pain,  only  grew  more  furious  at  each  fling,  and  it  waa 
natural  enough  he  should  do  his  utmost  to  rid  himself  of  so  cruel 
a  rider. 

How  long  he  might  have  kept  up  the  pitching  frolic  before 
his  involuntary  tormentor  could  have  freed  himself,  is  a  matter 
of  conjecture.  It  would  have  been  an  unfortunate  "fix"  to 
have  been  placed  in,  alone  upon  the  prairies. 

Lige,  however,  found  a  compassionate  bystander,  who,  having 
flung  his  lazo  around  the  neck  of  the  mustang,  brought  the  spec 
tacle  to  a  termination. 


CHAPTER    XL  V. 

A   LOVER   ON   THE   TRAIL. 

TAKING  advantage  of  the  distraction  caused  by  Quackenboss 
and  his  troubles,  I  despatched  the  black  upon  his  interesting 
errand,  and  with  no  slight  anxiety  awaited  the  result. 

From  my  position  on  the  roof,  I  saw  my  messenger  climb  the 
hill,  leading  the  proud  steed  ;  and  saw  them  enter  the  great 
portal  of  the  hacienda. 

Promptly — almost  directly — the  groom  c«me  out  again  with 
out  the  horse.  The  present  had  been  accepted.  So  far  well. 

I  counted  the  moments,  till  heavy  footsteps  were  heard  upon 
the  escalera,  and  a  shining  black  face  rose  over  the  roof. 

There  was  no  letter,  no  message  beyond  "  mil  gracias" 

I  felt  a  pang  of  chagrin.  I  had  expected  thanks  more  formal 
than  this  mere  phrase  of  compliment. 

My  man  appeared  better  satisfied.  A  gold  onza  gleamed  in 
his  purple  palm — a  handsome  perquisite. 


24:6  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

"  By  whom  given  ?"     I  inquired. 

"  Golly,  rnas  cap'n  !  De  handsomest  quade.'oom  gal  dis  mgga 
ever  see  guv  it." 

Beyond  a  doubt,  Isolina  herself  was  the  donor  !  I  could  have 
broken  the  rascal's  thick  skull  but  that  the  queenly  douceur  gavt 
proof  of  the  satisfaction  with  which  my  offering  had  been  receiv 
ed.  Even  on  this  trivial  circumstance,  I  built  my  hopes  of  yet 
receiving  a  fuller  meed  of  thanks. 

Absorbed  in  these  hopes,  I  continued  to  pace  the  azotea 
alone.  It  was  a  die  de  fiesta  in  the  rancheria.  Bells  had  already 
commenced  their  clangor,  and  other  notes  of  preparation  fell 
upon  the  ear.  The  poblanas  appeared  in  their  gayest  attire — 
the  Indians  in  bright  naguas,  with  red  and  purple  threads  twist 
ed  in  their  black  hair;  the  denizens  of  the  ranchitos  were  pour 
ing  into  the  plaza,  and  processions  were  being  formed  by  lie 
church  \  jaranas  were  twanging  their  guitar-like  music;  and 
pyrotechnic  machines  were  set  up  at  the  corners  of  the  streets. 
Tinsel-covered  saints  were  carried  about  on  the  shoulders  ot 
painted  maskers;  and  there  were  Pilate  and  the  Centurion,  and 
the  Saviour — a  spectacle  absurd  and  unnatural  ;  and  yet  a 
spectacle  that  may  be  witnessed  every  week  in  a  Mexican  vil 
lage,  and  which,  with  but  slight  variation,  has  been  exhibited 
every  week  for  three  centuries. 

I  had  no  eyes  for  this  disgusting  fanfaronade  of  a  degrading 
superstition.  Sick  of  the  sight,  weared  with  the  sounds,  I  had 
given  orders  for  my  horse  to  be  saddled,  intending  to  ride  forth 
and  seek  repose  for  my  spirit  amid  the  silent  glades  of  the  chap- 
paral. 

While  waiting  for  my  steed,  an  object  came  under  my  eyes 
that  quickened  the  beatings  of  my  pulse:  my  gaze  had  been  long 
turned  in  one  direction — upon  the  hacienda  of  Don  Ramon  de 
Vargas. 

Just  then,  I  saw  energing  from  its  gate,  and  passing  rapidly 
down  the  hill,  a  horse  with  a  rider  upon  his  back. 


A    LGTER   ON   THE   TKAIL.  24:7 

The  snow-white  color  of  this  horse,  and  the  scarlet  manga  of 
.lie  rider,  both  contrasting  with  the  green  of  the  surrounding 
landscape,  could  not  escape  observation  even  at  that  distance, 
and  my  eyes  at  once  caught  the  bright  object.  I  hesitated  not 
to  form  my  conclusion.  It  was  the  white  steed  I  saw;  and  the 
rider — I  remembered  the  manga  as  when  first  my  eyes  rested 
apOD  that  fair  form — the  rider  was  Isolina.  She  was  passing 
down  the  slope  that  stretched  from  the  hacienda  to  the  river 
bottom,  and  the  minute  after  the  thick  foliage  of  the  platanus 
trees  shrouded  the  shining  meteor  from  my  sight. 

I  noticed  that  she  halted  a  moment  on  the  edge  of  the  woods, 
and  fancied  that  she  gazed  earnestly  towards  the  village  ;  but 
the  road  she  had  taken  led  almost  in  the  opposite  direction. 

I  chafed  with  impatience  for  my  horse.  My  resolve,  made  on 
the  impulse  of  the  moment,  was  to  follow  the  white  steed  a»d 
his  scarlet-clad  rider. 

Once  in  the  saddle,  I  hurried  out  of  the  plaza,  passed  the 
ranches  of  yucca,  and  reaching  the  open  country,  pressed  my 
horse  into  a  gallop. 

My  road  lay  up  the  river,  through  a  heavily  timbered  bottom 
of  gum  and  cotton  woods.  These  were  thickly  beset  with  the 
curious  tillandsia,  whose  silvery  festoons,  stretching  from  branch 
to  branch,  shrouded  the  sun,  causing  amongst  the  tree-trunks  the 
obscurity  of  twilight. 

In  the  midst  of  one  of  these  shadowy  aisles,  I  met  or  passed 
some  one;  I  saw  that  it  was  a  Mexican  boy;  but  the  sombre  light, 
and  the  rapidity  with  which  I  was  riding,  prevented  me  from 
noting  anything  more.  The  lad  shouted  after  me,  uttering  some 
words,  which  were  drowned  by  the  hoof-strokes  of  my  horse.  I 
deemed  it  some  expression  of  boyish  esprit,  and,  without  heeding 
it,  rode  on.  Not  until  far  out  of  sight  arid  hearing  did  it  occur 
to  me  that  I  knew  the  voice  and  the  lad.  I  recollected  a  sort 
of  errand-boy  attached  to  the  hacienda,  and  whom  I  had  seen 
more  than  ouce  at  the  rancheria.  I  now  remembered  the  badin 


248  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

age  of  Wheatley,  and  would  have  returned  to  question  the  youth; 
but  I  had  left  him  too  far  in  the  rear.  After  a  moment's  reflec 
tion,  I  spurred  on.  -  f 

I  soon  arrived  at  the  base  of  the  hill  on  which  stood  the 
hacienda  ;  and  here  leaving  the  main  road,  I  followed  a  bridle 
path  that  skirted  the  hill.  A  few  hundred  yards  brought  me  to 
the  spot  where  I  had  last  observed  the  object  of  my  pursuit. 
The  hoof-track  of  the  white  horse  now  guided  me,  and  upon  his 
trail  I  entered  the  woods. 

For  some  distance,  it  followed  a  well-trodden  path — a  cattle 
track — but  all  at  once  it  diverged  from  this,  and  struck  off  into 
a  heavily  'timbered  bottom,  where  not  the  semblance  of  path 
existed.  Keeping  the  trace  in  view,  I  rode  after. 

As  I  advanced,  the  timber  grew  thicker,  and  the  path  more 
difficult.  A  close  underwood  of  arundinaria  and  sabal  pal  ma 
shut  up  the  way  and  the  view ;  trailing  roots  obstructed  progress 
below;  while  higher  up,  the  trellis- work  of  llianas,  bamboo  briars, 
sarsaparilla,  and  gigantic  grape-vines,  rendered  it  necessary  to 
bend  down  in  the  saddle  in  order  to  pass  onward. 

To  my  surprise,  I  noticed  all  this.  For  what  purpose  could 
she  have  chosen  such  a  path  ?  Was  it  indeed  Isolina  I  had 
seen?  A  white  horse  and  a  scarlet  manga  are  not  uncommon 
things  in  Mexico.  It  might  not  be But  the  hoof-print 

I  dismounted  and  examined  it:  I  knew  it  at  a  glance — it  was 
that  of  the  noble  steed,  and  the  rider  could  be  no  other  than 
Isolina  de  Yargas. 

No  longer  in  doubt,  though  still  wondering,  I  followed  tha 
tracks.  For  a  half  mile  or  more  the  path  meandered  through 
thick  forest,  here  turning  around  some  giant  trunk,  theie  diverg 
ing  to  the  right  or  left,  to  avoid  the  impervious  net-work  of  canea 
and  llianas. 

At  length  it  began  to  slope  upwards  ;  and  I  perceived  by  the 
ascent  that  I  was  climbing  a  hill.  The  woods  became  more 
open  as  I  advanced— here  and  there  alternating  with  glades  —the 


A   LOVER   ON   THE   TRAIL.  24:9 

trees  were  of  slenderer  growth,  and  the  foliage  lighter  and  thin 
ner.  I  was  no  longer  among  the  heavy  trunks  of  platanns 
and  liquidambar.  The  leguminosea  were  the  prevailing  trees  ; 
and  many  beautiful  forms  of  inga,  acacia,  and  mimosa,  grew 
around.  Myrtles,  too,  mingled  their  foliage  with  wild  limes, 
their  branches  twined  with  flowering  parasites,  as  the  climbing 
combretum,  with  its  long  flame-like  clusters,  convolvuli,  with  largf* 
white  blossoms,  and  the  beautiful  twin-leaved  bauhinia. 

It  was  a  wild  garden  of  flowers — a  shrubbery  of  nature's  OWD 
planting.  The  eye,  wandering  through  the  vistas  and  glades, 
beheld  almost  every  form  of  infloresence.  There  were  the  trum 
pet-shaped  bignonias — convolvuli  in  pendulous  bells — syngenesists 
disposed  in  spreading  umbels  ;  and  over  them,  closely  set  upon 
tall  spikes,  rose  the  showy  blossoms  of  the  bromelias — aloes  and 
dasylyrium.  Even  from  the  tops  of  the  highest  trees  hung 
gaudy  catkins,  wafted  to  and  fro  by  the  light  breeze,  mingling 
their  sheen  and  their  perfume  with  the  floral  epiphytes  and  para 
sites  that  clustered  around  the  branches. 

I  could  not  help  thinking  that  these  flowers  are  gifted  with 
life,  and  enjoy,  during  their  short  and  transient  existence,  both 
pleasure  and  pain.  The  bright  warm  sun  is  their  happiness, 
while  the  cold  cloudy  sky  is  the  reflection  of  their  misery. 

As  I  rode  onward,  another  reflection  passed  through  my  mind  ; 
it  was  caused  by  my  perceiving  that  the  atmosphere  was  charged 
with  pleasant  perfumes — literally  loaded  with  fragrance.  I  per 
ceived,  moreover,  that  the  same  breeze  carried  upon  its  breath 
the  sweet  music  of  birds,  whose  notes  sounded  clear,  soft,  and 
harmonious. 

What  closet  slanderer  hath  asserted  that  the  flowers  of  this 
fair  land  are  devoid  of  fragrance — that  its  birds,  though  brightly 
plumed,  are  songless  ? 

Ah,  Monsieur  Buffon  !  with  all  your  eloquence,  such  presump 
tive  assertion  will  one  day  strip  you  of  half  your  fame.  You 
rould  never  have  approached  within  two  hundred  paces  oi  a 

11* 


'J50  THE   WAB-TEAIL. 

Stannopea,  of  the  epidendum  odoratum,  of  the  datura  grandi/kxra, 
with  its  mantle  of  snow-white  blossoms  ?  You  could  never  have 
passed  near  the  pathos  plant,  the  serbereae,  and  tabernamon 
taneae,  the  callas,  eugenias,  ocotas,  and  nictiginas  ? — you  couid 
never  have  ridden  through  a  chapparal  of  acacias  and  mimosas 
— among  orchids  whose  presence  fills  whole  forests  with  fragrant 
aroma  ? 

And  more,  Monsieur  !  you  could  never  have  listened  to  the 
incomparable  melody  of  the  mock-bird — the  full,  charming  notes 
of  the  blue  song-thrush — the  sweet  warbling  voices  of  the  silvias, 
finches,  and  tanagers,  that  not  only  adorn  the  American  woods 
with  their  gorgeous  colors,  but  make  them  vocal  with  never- 
ending  song  ?  No,  Monsieur  ;  you  could  never  have  inhaled 
the  perfume  of  these  flowers,  nor  listed  to  the  melody  of  these 
sweet  songsters  ;  and  sad  it  was  of  you,  and  silly  as  sad,  to  have 
yielded  to  the  prejudice  of  a  slender  spirit,  and  denied  their 
existence.  Both  exist— the  singing  birds  and  the  fragrant 
flowers — both  exist,  and  thou  art  gone. 

On  such  reflections  I  dwelt  but  for  a  moment  ;  they  were  merely 
the  natural  impression  of  surrounding  subjects — short-lived  -sensa 
tions  almost  instantaneously  passing  away.  The  soul,  benighted 
with  love,  has  neither  eye-  nor  ear  for  aught  beyond  the  object  of  its 
passion.  From  the  contemplation  of  that  only  does  it  derive  plea 
sure  ;  and  even  the  fairest  pictures  of  nature  may  be  spread  be 
fore  it  without  challenging  observation.  It  was  only  that  the 
one  through  which  I  was  passing  was  of  such  transcendent 
beauty — so  like  to  some  scene  of  paradise — that  I  2oald  net 
help  regarding  it  with  momentary  admiration. 

But  my  eyes  soon  returned  to  the  earth,  and  once  more  taking 
up  the  trace  of  the  steed,  I  rode  on. 

I  had  advanced  near  the  summit,  the  tracks  were  quite  recent  ; 
the  branches  that  had  been  touched  by  the  flanks  of  the  horse 
had  not  yet  ceased  to  vibrate  ;  the  rider  could  not  be  far  in  ad 
vance.  I  fancied  I  heard  the  hoof-stroke. 


A   LOVER   ON   THE   TEAIL.       .  251 

Silently  I  pressed  on,  expecting  every  moment  to  catch  the 
g  tarn  of  the  scarlet  manga,  or  the  white  sheen  of  the  steed.  A 
few  paces  farther,  and  both  were  under  my  eyes,  glittering 
through  the  feathery  froudage  of  the  mimosas.  I  had  followed 
the  true  track.  The  rider  was  Isolina. 

I  saw  that  she  had  halted.  She  had  reached  the  top  of  the 
hill,  where  the  growth  of  timber  ceased.  An  opening  of  about 
an  acre  there  was,  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  the  flowery  woods 
— the  very  beau  ideal  of  a  summer  glade.  The  open  summit  com 
manded  a  view  of  the  surrounding  country — for  the  hill  was% 
high  one — while  the  charming  spot  itself  enjoyed  perfect  privacy 
and  repose. 

In  this  glade  she  had  drawn  up,  and  was  sitting  silently  in  the 
saddle  as  if  to  enjoy  the  warbling  of  birds,  the  hum  of  the  bees, 
and  the  fragrance  of  flowers. 

I  myself  drew  rein,  and  remained  for  some  moments  in  a  state 
of  hesitancy,  as  to  whether  I  should  ride  forward  or  go  back.  A 
feeling  of  shame  was  upon  me,  and  I  believe  I  would  have  turn 
ed  my  horse  and  stolen  gently  away,  but  just  then  I  saw  the 
fair  rider  draw  forth  from  her  bosom  something  that  glittered  in 
the  sun.  It  was  a  watch,  and  she  appeared  to  note  the  time. 
I  observed  that  she  looked  anxiously  over  the  tops  of  the  low 
trees,  in  the  direction  of  the  plain  below. 

These  circumstances,  trivial  as  they  might  appear,  produced 
within  me  a  quick  sense  of  pain.  I  felt  as  if  hot  steel  was  pass- 
Ing  through  my  heart.  I  had  ridden  to  my  ruin — I  had  follow 
ed  to  be  present  at  an  assignation.  Thus  only  could  I  explain 
the  solitary  ride,  and  by  such  difficult  and  devious  paths  ;  thus 
only  could  I  account  for  the  oft-repeated  anxious  glance,  the.  ear 
acutely  bent.  Beyond  a  doubt,  she  was  listening  for  the  foot 
steps  of  a  lover  ! 

The  rein  fell  from  my  fingers.  I  sat  irresolute — I  scarcely 
breathed— my  heart  felt  cold  and  feeble—the  birds  mocked  me 


252  THE   WAR-TEAIL. 

— the  parrots  screeched  his  name — the  ara*  in  hoarse  concert 
cried  out  "  fjurra !" 

The  name  nerved  me,  as  blood  knits  the  sinews  of  the  tiger. 
Once  more  my  fingers  closed  upon  my  briddle,  my  feet  became 
firm  in  the  stirrups,  and  heart  and  arm  swelled  to  their  full 
strength.  'Twas  but  a  light  rapier  that  hung  against  my  thigh 
• — no  matter  ;  he  might  be  no  better  weaponed  :  and  even  armed 
from  head  to  heel,  I  feared  him  not.  Three  passions — hatred, 
jealousy  and  revenge — supplied  an  arm  of  treble  strength,  and 
under  the  influence  of  these  I  felt  bold  and  sure  of  conquest. 
Yes  !  I  felt  at  that  moment,  as  though  I  could  have  slain  my 
hated  rival  with  my  naked  hands. 

I  was  no  longer  troubled  with  scruples  of  etiquette.  No  ;  this 
monster  owed  me  satisfaction — life  itself  :  he  had  striven  to  take 
mine  ;  and  now  his  should  be  forfeit  to  my  vengeance.  On  that 
spot — even  in  her  presence — should  he  die,  or  I  myself  become 
the  victim.  The  two  of  us  should  never  go  thence  alive.  "  Oh, 
that  he  may  reach  the  ground  while  my  blood  is  thus  hot,  and 
my  hand  ready  ?" 

The  fierce  thoughts  stirring  within  me  must  have  roused  my 
horse,  for  at  that  moment  he  tossed  his  head  and  neighed  wildly. 
A  response  came  like  an  echo  from  the  glade,  and  tho  instant 
after  a  voice  called  out  : 

"Hola!   quienva?" 

Concealment  was  no  longer  possible.  I  saw  that  I  was  ob 
served  ;  and,  spurring  my  horse  into  the  open  ground,  came  face 
to  face  with  Isolina. 


A  DKCLARATION  ON  HORSEBACK. — Face»to  face  with  uiy  beautiful  bruuette.  lier  e.ver 
fell  upon  me  in  an  expression  of  surprise.  I  felt  abashed  by  the  glance ;  tny  conduct 
was  not  en  regie.  I  bethought  me  of  an  apology.  "What  excuse  could  I  offer  for  such 
unceremonious  intrusion?  Accident?  She  would  not  believe  it :  tlie  time  and  pls»r» 
3-"re  asrainst  surh  a  supposition.  —  PAOF  '25S. 


A  DECLARATION   ON   HOKSEBACK.  2-53 


CHAPTER  XL VI. 

A   DECLARATION   ON   HORSEBACK. 

FACE  to  face  with  my  beautiful  brunette.  Her  eyes  fell 
upon  me  in  an  expression  of  surprise.  I  felt  abashed  by  the 
glance  ;  my  conduct  was  not  en  regie.  I  bethought  me  of  an 
apology.  What  excuse  could  I  offer  for  such  unceremonious  in 
trusion  ?  Accident  ?  She  would  not  believe  it  ;  the  time  and 
the  place  were  against  such  a  supposition.  With  an  intellect  like 
hers,  it  would  be  idle  to  adopt  so  shallow  an  artifice  No  :  I 
would  not  dissemble  ;  I  would  boldly  avow  the  truth.  Jealousy 
had  rendered  me  reckless  of  the  result. 

"  Adios,  cavalkro  /"  said  she,  interrupting  my  hurried  reflec 
tions.  "  Carrambo !  where'  is  your  guide  ?  How  have  you 
fdjind  this  place  ?" 

11  Easily  enough,  senorita  ;  I  followed  the  tracks  of  your 
horse." 

"  But  so  soon — I  did  not  expect  you" 

11  No  ;  you  expected  another  ?" 

"  Certainly.     I  thought  Cyprio  would  arrive  before  you"— 

"  Cyprio  !" 

"  Cyprio — yes,  Cyprio." 

"  Senorita  !  if  this  be  another  name  for  your  Protean  cousin, 
I  have  to  say  it  will  be  better  for  him  he  should  not  arrive  at 
all." 

"  My  cousin  ? — better  not  arrive  ?  Holy  Trinity,  capitan  1  I 
do  not  comprehend  you  !" 

Her  large  brown  eyes  were  rolling  .in  astonishment.     I  was 


254:  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

as  much  puzzled  as  she,  but  I  had  begun  my  explanation  and 
was  determined  to  carry  it  to  the  end. 

"  Then  Senorita  de  Vargas,  I  shall  be  more  explicit.  If 
Rafael  Ijurra  appear  upon  this  ground,  either  he  or  I  leaves  it 
not  alive.  He  has  attempted  my  life,  and  I  have  vowed  to  take 
his,  whenever  and  wherever  I  may  meet  him." 

"  Pray  heaven  you  may  keep  your  vow  1" 

"Your  cousin?" 

"My  cousin — Rafael  Ijurra — my  worst  foe— the  direst  enemy 
of  our  house  !" 

"  Ha  !  but  were  you  not  awaiting  him  ?" 

"  Awaiting  him  !  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  No.  Little  timid  though'! 
be,  I  should  not  desire  to  be  here  alone  with  Rafael  Ijurra." 

"  Lady  !  you  astonish  me  ;  pray  explain  n 

"  POT  dios !  gallant  capitan,  'tis  you  who  need  explain.  I 
sought  this  interview  to  thank  you  for  your  noble  gift.  You 
meet  me  with  anger  in  your  eye,  and  bitter  words  upon  your 
tongue." 

"  You  sought  this  interview  ? — say  you  so,  lady  ?" 

"  Certainly  I  did.  For  reasons  already  known  to  you,  I 
dared  not  invite  you  to  our  house  ;  so  I  have  chosen  this  pretty 
glade  for  my  drawing-room.  How  do  you  like  i|,  cavallero  ?" 

"  In  your  society,  senorita,  the  rudest  spot  would  appear  a 
paradise." 

"  Again  the  poet's  tongue  1  Ah,  capitan,  remember  the  yel 
low  domino  !  No  more  flattery,  I  pray  ;  we  are  no  longer  en 
masque.  Face  to  face,  let  us  be  candid  with  each  other." 

"  With  all  my  heart  I  acce.pt  the  conditions.  Candor  is  the 
very  thing  I  desire,  for  to  say  the  truth,  I  came  prepared  for  a 
confession." 

"  A  confession  1" 

"  Precisely  so  ;  but  since  you  are  an  advocate  for  candour,  may 
I  first  ask  a  question  ?" 

"  Ho  I  you  wish  to  play  the  confessor  with  me  ?" 


A  DECLARATION  ON  HORSEBACK.          255 

"  I  do,  senorita." 

'•  Bravo,  capitan  !  Proceed  !  I  shall  answer  you  in  all  sin 
cerity." 

"  Then,  lady,  what  I  would  ask — Who  is  this  Cyprio  whom 
you  expected  ?" 

"  Cyprio  1  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  Who  should  Cyprio  be  but  my  mozo  ; 
he  who  carried  my  message  to  you.  Why  do  you  put  such  a 
question  ?" 

"  He  who  carried  your  message  to  me  ?" 

"  Of  course.  Yonder  is  the  muchacko  himself.  Hola,  Cyprio! 
you  may  return  to  the  house.  Carrambo,  capitan  1  both  he  and 
you  must  have  sped  well.  I  did  not  expect  you  for  half  an  hour  ; 
but  you  soldiers  are  soon  in  the  saddle.  So  much  the  better,  for 
it  is  getting  late,  and  I  have  a  great  deal  to  say  to  you." 

A  light  had  broken  upon  me.  'Twas  Cyprio  I  had  passed  in  the 
forest  shade  ;  the  boy  was  the  bearer  of  a  message — hence  his 
having  hailed  me.  'Twas  I  who  was  expected  to  keep  the  assig- 
na^ion  ;  'twas  I  for  whom  the  timepiece  had  been  consulted — for 
whom  those  earnest  glances  had  been  given  !  The  bitter  moments 
were  past,  and  my  heart  swelled  anew  with  proud  and  pleasant 
emotions.  As  yet  she  knew  not  that  I  had  come  without  invi 
tation.  Cyprio,  at  the  word  of  command,  had  gone  off  without 
making  any  reply,  and  my  prompt  appearance  upon  the  ground 
was  left  unexplained. 

I  was  about  to  account  for  it,  and  offer  some  apology  for  my 
brusque  behavior,  when  I  was  challenged  to  the  confession  I  had 
just  promised. 

Minor  thoughts  gave  way  before  the  important  purpose  I  had 
formed,  and  to  which  the  banter  now  recalled  me.  So  fair  an 
opportunity  might  never  offer  again.  In  the  vicissitudes  of  a  sol 
dier's  life,  the  chance  of  to-day  should  not  be  disregarded — to 
morrow  may  bring  change  either  in  the  scene  or  the  circum 
stances  ;  and  I  was  skilled  enough  in  love-lore  to  know  that  a,n 
hour  unimproved  is  often  followed  by  an  age  of  regrets. 


256  THE   WAK-TRAIL. 

Bat,  in  truth,  I  do  some  wrong  to  my  character  ;  I  was  but 
little  under  the  influence  of  such  cunning  cognizance  at  that 
moment.  I  acted  not  by  volition,  but  rather  under  pressure  of 
a  passion  that  held  complete  mastery  over  my  will,  and  compelled 
me  to  the  declaration  I  was  about  to  make. 

It  was  simple  enough — three  little  words  in  either  of  the  two 
sweet  tongues  in  which  we  understood  each  other.  I  chose  the 
one — of  all  others  most  attuned  to  the  tones  of  the  loving  heart 
— and  bending  low  to  that  fair  face,  and  gazing  into  the  liquid 
depths  of  those  large  inquiring  eyes,  I  whispered  the  sweet, 
though  oft-repeated  phrase  : 

"  Yoteamo." 

The  words  quivered  upon  my  lips,  but  their  tone  proved  the- 
sincerity  in  which  I  had  spoken.  Ko  doubt  it  was  further 
manifest  by  the  earnestness  of  my  manner  as  I  awaited  her 
reply. 

The  habitual  smile  had  departed  from  her  lips  ;  the  damask 
red  deepened  and  rose  higher  upon  her  cheeks  ;  the  dark  fringes 
drooped  downward,  and  half-concealed  the  burning  orbs  beneath: 
the  face  of  the  gay  girl  had  suddenly  assumed  the  serious  air  of 
womanhood. 

At  first,  I  was  terrified  by  the  expression,  and  conld  scarcely 
control  my  dread  ;  but  I  drew  hope  from  the  flushed  cheek,  the 
roseate  neck,  the  swelling  panting  bosom.  Emotions  were  stir 
ring  in  that  breast.  Oh,  what  emotions  !  will  she  not  speak  ? 
Will  she  not  declare  them  ? 

There  was  a  long  interval  of  silence — to  me,  it  seemed  an 
age. 

"  Senor,"  she  said  at  length — 'twas  the  first  time  I  had  heard 
that  voice  tremble — "  Senor,  you  promised  to  be  candid  ;  you 
have  been  so  :  are  you  equally  sincere  ?" 

"  I  have  spoken  from  the  depth  of  my  soul." 

The  long  lashes  were  raised,  and  the  love  light  gleamed  from 
her  liquid  eyes  ;  for  a  moment  it  burned  steadily,  bathing 


A  DECLARATION  ON  HORSEBACK.  257 

my  heart  as  with  balm.  Heaven  itself  could  not  have  shed  a 
brighter  beam  upon  my  spirit. 

All  at  once  a  smile  played  upon  her  features,  in  which  I 
detected,  or  fancied  so,  the  gay  insouciance  that  springs  from 
indifference.  To  me  it  was  another  moment  of  pain.  She  con 
tinued  : 

"And,  pray,  capitan,  what  would  you  have  me  do?" 

I  felt  embarrassed,  and  replied  not. 

"  Would  you  have  me  declare  that  I  love  you  ?" 

"  Oh  !  you  cannot — you  do  not" 

"  You  have  not  asked  the  question  !" 

"  No,  lady.     I  dreaded  the  answer." 

"  Ho  I  what  a  coward  you  have  grown  of  late  ?  A  pity  I 
am  not  masked.  Shall  I  draw  this  veil  ?  Ha,  ha,  ha  1" 

It  was  not  the  manner  of  love.  Love  laughs  not.  My  heart 
was  heavy  ;  I  made  no  reply,  but  with  eyes  upon  the  ground,  sat 
in  my  saddle,  feeling  like  one  condemned. 

For  some  moments  her  laughter  rang  in  my  ears,  as  I  fancied, 
m  mockery.  The  sweet  silvery  voice  only  grated  upon  my  heart. 
Oh,  that  I  had  never  listened  to  its  siren  tones  ! 

I  heard  the  hoof-stroke  of  her  horse  ;  and,  looking  up,  saw 
that  she  was  moving  away  from  the  spot.  Was  she  going  to 
leave  me  thus  ? 

She  spurred  towards  the  centre  of  the  glade,  where  the 
ground  was  higher,  and  there  again  pulled  up. 

"  Come  hither,  cavallero  I"  she  cried,  "  beckoning  to  me  with 
her  small  gloved  hand." 

Mechanically  I  rode  up  to  the  spot. 

"  So  gallant  capitan  I  you  who  are  brave  enough  to  meet  a 
score  of  foes,  have  not  the  courage  to  ask  a  woman  if  she  loves 
you  !" 

A  dismal  smile  was  my  only  reply  to  this  bitter  badinage. 

"  Ah  !  capitan/7  she  continued,  "  I  will  not  believe  it ;  er€ 


258  THE   WAB-TKAIL. 

now  you  have  put  that  dreaded  interrogatory — often,  I  fear,  too 
of ten. " 

I  looked  at  her  with  surprise.  There  was  a  touch  of  bitter 
ness  in  the  tone.  The  gay  smile  was  gone  ;  her  eyelids  drooped; 
her  look  was  turned  upon  the  ground. 

CTas  this  real,  or  only  a  seeming  ?  the  prelude  to  some  abrupt 
antithesis  ?  some  fresh  outburst  of  satire  ? 

"  Senorita  !"  said  I, '"the  hypothesis,  whether  true  or  fais« 
can  ha^e  but  little  interest  for  you." 

She  answered  me  with  a  smile  of  strange  intelligence.  I  fan 
cied  there  was  sadness  in  it.  I  fancied 

"We  cannot  recover  the  past,"  said  she,  interrupting  my 
thoughts  ;  "  no,  no,  no  !  But  for  the  present — say  again — 
tell  me  again  that  you  love  me  !" 

"  Love  you  ! — yes  lady  " 

"  And  I  have  your  heart,  your  whole  heart  ?" 

"  Never — can  I  love  another  1" 

"Thanks,  thanks  !" 

"  No  more  than  thanks,  Isolina  ?" 

For  some  moments  she  remained  silent,  her  eyes  averted  from 
me  ;  she  appeared  struggling  with  some  emotion. 

"  Yes,  more  than  thanks,"  she  replied  at  length  ;  "  three 
things  more — if  they  will  suffice  to  prove  my  gratitude." 

"  Name  them  1" 

"  Why  should  prudery  tie  my  tongue  ?  I  promised  to  be  can 
did.  I  too  came  here  to  make  confession.  Listen  !  Three 
things  I  have  said.  Look  aiound  you  ! — north,  south,  east,  and 
west — the  land  you  see  is  mine  ;  be  it  yours,  if  you  will." 

"  Isolina !" 

This,  too,  can  I  bestow  M — she  held  forth  her  little  hand,  whieft 
I  clasped  with  fervid  emotion. 

"And  the  third  r 

"  The  third,  on  second  thoughts,  \  cannot  give  ;  'tis  yours 
already." 


8TBAYED   FKOM   THE   TBAOK.  259 

"  It  IS  ?" ' 

'*  Mia  corazon'"  (My  heart). 

Those  splendid  steeds,  like  creatures  of  intelligence,  appeared 
tt  anderstand  what  was  said  ;  they  had  gradually  moved  closer 
anJ  closer,  till  their  muzzles  touched  and  their  steel  curbs  rang 
together.  At  the  last  words,  they  came  side  by  side,  as  if  yoked 
in  a  chariot.  It  appeared  delight  to  them  to  press  their  proud 
heaving  flanks  against  each  oilier,  while  their  riders  closing  in 
mutual  clasp>  leaned  over  and  met  their  lips  in  that  wild  fervid 
kiss  which  forms  the  climax  of  love. 


CHAPTER  XL VII. 

STRAYED  FROM  THE  TRACK. 

• 

WE  parted  upon  the  top  of  the  hill  ;  it  was  not  prudent  for 
us  to  be  seen  together.  Isolina  rode  away  first,  leaving  me  in 
the  glade*.  We  bade  adieu  in  that  phrase  of  pleasant  promise, 
"  hasta  la  manana  "  (until  to-morrow).  To-morrow  we  should 
meet  again.  To-morrow,  and  to-morrow,  we  should  visit  that 
sweet  spot,  repeat  our  burning  words,  renew  our  blissful  vows. 

I  remained  some  minutes  on  the  ground,  now  hallowed  and 
holy.  Within,  the  tumult  of  triumphant  passion  had  passed,  and 
was  succeeded  by  the  calm  repose  of  perfect  contentment.  My 
heart's  longings  had  been  gratified  ;  it  had  found  all  that  it 
desired — even  to  the  full  reciprocity  of  its  passion.  What  would 
it  more  ?  There  is  no  nnore  of  mundane  bliss.  Life  has  no 
facility  to  cope  with  requited  love  ;  it  alone  can  give  us  a  fore 
taste  of  future  joys  ;  by  it  alone  may  we  form  some  idea  of  the 
angel  existence  of  heaven. 

The  world  without  was  in  harmony  with  the  spirit  within 


260  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

The  scene  around  me  was  rose-color.  The  flowers  appeared 
fresher  in  tint,  and  breathed  a  sweeter  fragrance  in  the  air  ;  the 
hum  of  the  homeward  bee,  laden  with  treasures  for  his  love 
queen,  fell  with  a  dreamy  pleasure  upon  the  ear  :  the  voices  of 
the  birds  sounded  softer  and  more  musical  ;  even  the  aras  and 
paroquets,  chanting  in  more  subdued  tone,  no  longer  pronounced 
that  hated  name  ;  and  the  tiny  Mexican  doves — las  palomitas, 
scarcely  so  large  as  finches — walked  with  proud  gait  over  the 
ground,  or  side  by  side  upon  the  branches  of  the  myrtles— -like 
types  of  tender  love — told  their  heart's  tale  in  soft  and  amorous 
cooing. 

Long  could  I  have  lingered  by  that  consecrated  spot,  even 
hasta  la  manana,  but  duty  claimed  me,  and  its  calls  must  not  be 
disregarded.  Already  the  setting  sun  was  flinging  purple  beams 
over  the  distant  prairie  ;  and,  heading  my  horse  down  the  hill,  I 
once  more  plunged  under  the  shadows  of  the  mimosas. 

Absorbed  in  my  supreme  happiness,  I  took  no  heed  of  aught 
else  ;  I  noticed  neither  tra*ck  nor  path. 

Had  I  left  my  horse  to  himself,  most  likely  he  would  have 
taken  the  right  road  ;  but  in  my  reverie,  perhaps  I  had  mechan 
ically  dragged  upon  the  rein,  and  turned  him  from  it.  Whether 
or  not,  after  a  lapse  of  time,  I  found  myself  in  the  midst  of  thick 
woods,  with  not  the  semblance  of  a  trail  to  guide  me  ;  and  I 
knew  not  whether  I  was  riding  in  the  right  direction.  I  ought 
rather  to  say  that  I  knew  the  contrary — else  I  should  long  since 
have  reached  the  clearings  around  the  village. 

Without  much  reflection,  I  turned  in  a  new  direction,  and  rode 
for  some  time  without  striking  a  trail.  This  led  me  once  more 
into  doubt,  and  I  made  head  back  again,  but  still  without  suc 
cess.  I  was  in  a  forest  plain,  but  I  could  find  no  path  leading 
anywhere  ;  and  amid  the  underwood  of  palmettoes  I  could  not 
see  any  great  distance  around  me.  Beyond  a  question,  I  lad 
gtrayed  far  out  of  my  way. 

At  an  early  hour  of  the  day,  this  would  have  given  me  little  con- 


STRAYED  FROM  THE  TRACK.  261 

corn  ;  but  the  sun  had  now  set,  and,  already,  under  the  shadow 
of  the  moss-covered  trees,  it  was  nearly  dark.  Night  would  be 
down  ^n  a  few  minutes,  and  in  all  probability  I  should  be  obliged 
to  spend  it  in  the  forest — by  no  means  an  agreeable  prospect, 
and  the  Sess  so  that  I  was  thinly  clad  and  hungry.  True,  I 
might  pass  some  hours  in  sweet  reflection  upon  the  pleasant  inci 
dent  of  the  day — I  might  dream  rosy  dreams — but,  alas  !  the 
soul  is  sadly  under  the  influence  of  the  body  ;  the  spiritual  must 
ever  yield  to  the  physical,  and  even  love  itself  becomes  a  victim  to 
the  vulgai  appetite  of  hunger. 

I  began  to  fear  that,  after  all,  I  should  have  but  a  sorry  night 
of  it.  I  should  be  MOO  hungry  to  think  ;  too  cold  either  to 
sleep  or  dream  ;  besides,  I  was  likely  to  get  wet  to  the  shirt  :  the 
rain  had  commenced  falling  in  large  heavy  drops. 

After  another  unsuccessful  effort  to  strike  a  trail,  I  pulled  up 
and  sat  listening.  My  eyes,  would  no  longer  avail  me  ;  perhaps 
ny  ears  might  do  better  service. 

And  so  it  chanced.  The  report  of  a  rifle  reached  them,  appar- 
jntly  fired  some  hundred  yards  off  in  the  woods. 

Considering  that  I  was  upo«*  hostile  ground,  such  a  sound 
might  have  caused  me  alarm  ;  but  I  knew  from  the  sharp  whip- 
like  crack  that  the  piece  was  a  hunter's  rifle,  and  no  Mexican 
ever  handled  a  gun  of  that  kind  Moreover,  I  heard,  closely 
following  upon  the  shot,  a  dull  concussion,  as  of  some  heavy 
body  dropped  from  a  high  elevation  to  the  ground.  I  was  hun 
ter  enough  to  know  the  signification  of  this  sound.  It  was  the 
game — bird  or  beast — that  had  fallen  to  the  bullet. 

An  American  must  have  fired  that  shot ;  but  who  ?  There 
were  only  three  or  four  of  the  rangers  who  carried  the  hunter's 
rifle — a  very  different  weapon  from  the  "regulation  "  piece — old 
backwoodsmen  who  had  been  indulged  in  their  whim.  It  might 
be  one  of  these. 

Without  hesitation,  I  headed  my  horse  for  the  spot,  and  rode 
as  rapidly  as  the  underwood  would  permit  me.  I  certainly  must 


THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

have  passed  the  place  where  the  shot  had  been  fired,  and  yet  I 
saw  no  one  ;  but  just  as  I  was  about  to  pull  up  again,  a  well 
known  voice  reached  me  from  behind  with  the  words  : 

"  Jumpin  Geehosophat  !  it  ur  the  young  fellur  !" 

Turning,  I  beheld  my  trapper  comrades  just  emerging  from 
the  bushes,  where  they  had  cautiously  cac/idd  on  hearing  the 
hoof-strokes  of  my  horse. 

Rube  carried  upon  his  shoulders  a  large  turkey  gobblei — the 
game  I  had  heard  drop — while  upon  Garey's  back  I  observed 
the  choice  portions  of  a  deer. 

"  You  have  been  foraging  to  some  advantage,"  I  remarked,  as 
they  came  up. 

"  Yes,  capt'n,"  replied  Garey,  "  we  wont  want  for  rashuns. 
Not  but  that  your  rangers  offered  us  a  plenty  to  eat ;  but  ye  see 
we  couldn't  in  honor  accept  o'  it,  for  we  promised  to  find  for  our 
selves." 

"  Ye-es,  durn  it  1"  added  Rube,  "  we're  free  monutainee  meo 
— ain't  a  gwine  to  sponge  on  nobody — we  ain't/' 

"  An,  capt'n,"  continued  Garey,  "  thar  don't  appear  to  be 
any  great  eatin  fixins  about  the  place  for  yurself :  if  yu'll  just 
accept  o'  the  turkey,  an  one  o'  these  hyar  quarters  o'  the  deei  • 
meat,  thar's  plenty  left  for  Rube  an  me  ;  ain't  thar,  Rube  ?" 

"  Gobs  !"  was  the  laconic  answer. 

I  was  not  loth  to  satisfy  the  wish  of  the  hunters — for  to  say 
the  truth,  the  village  larder  had  no  such  delicacies  as  either  wild 
turkey  or  venison — and  having  signified  my  assent,  we  all  three 
moved  away  from  the  spot.  With  the  trappers  for  my  guides, 
I  should  soon  get  into  the  right  road.  They,  too,  were  on  their 
return  to  the  post.  They  had  been  in  the  woods  since  noon. 
They  were  both  afoot,  having  left  their  horses  at  the  raneheria. 

After  winding  about  half  a  mile  among  the  trees,  we  came 
out  upon  a  narrow  road  ;  here  my  companions,  who  were  unac 
quainted  with  the  neighborhood,  were  at  fault  as  well  as  myself ; 
they  knew  not  which  direction  to  take.  It  was  dark  as  pitch, 


STRAYED  FROM  THE  TRACK.  263 

but,  as  OK  the  night  before,  there  was  lightning  at  intervals. 
Unlike  the  preceding  night,  however,  it  was  now  raining  as  if 
all  the  sluices  of  the  sky  had  been  set  open  ;  and  by  this  time 
we  were  all  three  of  us  soaking  wet.  The  whole  canopy  of 
heaven  was  shrouded  in  black,  without  a  single  streak  of  light 
upon  it — not  even  a  star.  Who  could  discover  the  direction  in 
such  a  night  ? 

As  the  lightning  flashed,  I  saw  Rube  bending  down  over  the 
road  ;  he  appeared  to  be  examining  the  tracks.  I  noticed  that 
there  were  wheel-tracks — deep  ruts — evidently  made  by  the  rude 
block-wheels  of  a  carreta.  It  was  these  that  the  trapper  was 
scanning. 

Almost  as  soon  as  a  man  could  have  read  the  direction  from 
a  finger-post,  Rube  raised  himself  erect  and  crying  out : 

"All  right — this  way  1''  set  off  along  the  road. 

I  was  curious  to  know  how  he  had  determined  the  point, 
and  questioned  him. 

"  Wai,  yur  see,  young  fellur,  it  ur  the  trail  o'  a  Mexikin  cart  ; 
an  anybody  as  iver  seed  thet  ur  vamint  knows  it  hez  got  ohly 
two  wheels.  But  thur  are  four  tracks  hyur,  an  thurfor  the  cart 
must  a  gone  back  an  fo'th,  for  I  seed  they  wur  the  same  set  o' 
wheels.  Now,  'tur  raizonable  to  s'posethet  the  back-track  leads 
to  the  settlements,  an  thet's  this  away." 

"  But  how  could  you  tell  which  was  the  back-track  ?" 

"  Wagh  !  thet  ur  easy  as  fallin'  off  a  log.  The  back-track 
ur  the  fresher  by  more'n  a  kupple  o'  hours." 

Pondering  upon  the  singular  "instinct"  that  enabled  our 
guide  to  distinguish  the  tracks,  I  rode  on  in  silence. 

Shortly  after,  I  again  heard  the  voice  of  Rube,  who  was  some 
paces  in  advance. 

"  I  kud  a  knowd  the  way,"  he  said,  "  'ithout  the  wheel- 
tracks  :  they  only  made  things  more  sartint  sure." 

II  How  ?"  I  asked.     "  What  other  clue  had  you  ?" 

"The  water,"  replied  he  ;  "7ee  see,  or  'ee  mout,  ef  you'd  » 


264  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

looked  into  the  tracks,  thet  it  ur  runnin'  this-away.  Do  'ee  hear 
thet  thur  ?" 

I  listened.  I  heard  distinctly  the  sound  of  running  water,  as 
of  a  small  stream  carried  down  a  rough  rocky  channel. 

"  Yes— I  hear  it." 

"Wai,"  continued  the  trapper,  "it  ur  a  branch  made  by -the 
rain  :  we're  a  follerin'  it  down  ;  an  thurfor  must  kum  to  the  river 
jest  whur  we  want  to  git.  Oncest  thur,  we'll  soon  find  our 
way,  I  reck'n.  Wagh  !  how  the  durned  rain  kums  down  1  It 
'ud  drown  a  muss-rat.  Wagh  !" 

The  result  proved  the  trapper's  reasoning  correct.  The 
road-water  was  running  in  the  direction  we  had  taken  ;  and 
shortly  after,  the  brawling  branch  shot  out  from  among  the 
bushes,  and  crossed  our  path,  diverging  from  it  at  an  acute  angle, 
We  could  see,  however,  as  we  plunged  through  the  now  swollen 
streamlet,  that  the  current,  in  its  general  direction,  was  the 
same  with  our  road  :  it  would  certainly  guide  us  to  the  river. 

It  did  so.  Half  a  mile  further  on  we  came  out  upon  its  banks, 
and  struck  the  main  road  leading  to  the  rancheria. 

A  few  minutes'  brisk  travelling  carried  us  to  the  outskirts  of 
the  village,  when  we  were  all  three  brought  to  a  sudden  halt  by 
the  sharp  hail  of  the  sentry,  who  called  out  the  usual  interro 
gatory  : 

"  Who  goes  there  ?" 

"  Friends  1"  I  replied  ;  "  'tis  you,  Quackenboss  ?"  I  had 
recognized  the  voice  of  the  soldier-botanist,  and  under  the  light 
ning,  saw  him  standing  by  the  trunk  of  a  tree. 

"  Halt  !  Give  the  countersign  !"  was  the  response  in  a  firm 
determined  tone. 

I  did  not  know  this  masonic  pass-word.  On  riding  out,  I  had 
not  thought  of  such  a  thing,  and  I  began  to  anticioate  some  trou 
ble.  I  resolved,  however  to  make  trial  of  the  sentry. 

"  I  hav'n't  got  the  countersign.  'Tis  I,  Quackenboss.  I 
am  " 


STRAYED  FKOM  TEE  TRACK.  265 

I  announced  my  name  and  rank.     . 

"  Don't  care  for  all  that  !"  was  the  somewhat  surly  rejoinder, 
*'  can't  pass  'ithout  the  countersign." 

"  Yer  durned  fool,  it's  yur  captain,"  cried  Rube,  in  a  peevish 
tone. 

"  May  be,"  replied  the  imperturbable  sentry  j  "  can't  let  him 
pass  'ithout  countersign." 

I  now  saw  we  were  in  a  real  dilemma. 

"  Send  for  the  corporal  of  the  guard,  or  either  of  the  lieuten 
ants,"  I  suggested,  thinking  that  that  might  be  the  shortest 
way  to  get  out  of  it. 

"  Hain't  got  nobody  to  send,"  came  the  gruff  voice  of  Quack- 
enboss  from  out  the  darkness. 

"  I'll  go  !"  promptly  answered  Garey — the  big  trapp  r  think 
ing,  in  his  innocence,  there  could  be  no  reason  why  he  should  not 
carry  the  message  to  quarters — and  as  he  spoke  he  made  a  step 
or  two  forward  in  the  direction  of  the  sentinel. 

"  Halt  there  !"  thundered  the  voice  of  Quackenboss  ;  "  halt 
another  step,  and  I'll  plug  you  with  a  bullet." 

"  What's  thet  ?  plug  he  sez  ?"  screamed  Rube,  leaping  to  the 
front.  "  Geeho  Geehosophat  !  yu'll  plug  'im,  eh  ?  Yur  durned 
mulehead,  if  'ee  shoot  this  way,  it'll  be  the  last  time  yu'll  ever 
lay  claws  to  a  trigger.  Now  then  !"  and  Rube  stood  with  his 
rifle  half  raised  to  the  level,  and  threatening  to  raise  it  still 
higher. 

At  that  moment,  the  lightning  gleamed  ;  I  saw  the  sentry 
with  his  piece  also  at  a  level.  I  well  knew  the  accuracy  of  his 
aim  ;  I  trembled  for  the  result.  In  my  loudest  voice  I 
called  out  : 

"  Hold,  Quackenboss  !  hold  your  fire  !  we  shall  wait  till 
some  one  comes  ;"  and  as  I  spoke,  I  caught  both  my  companions, 
and  drew  them  back. 

Whether  it  was  the  commanding  tone  of  my  voice,  which  the 
ranger  had  heard  before,  or  whether  in  the  light  he  had  recog- 

12 


266  THE   WAK-TRAIL. 

nized  mj  features,  I  saw  him,  before  it  darkened,  lower  his  piece, 
and  I  felt  easy  again. 

But  he  still  obstinately  refused  to  let  us  pass.  Further  par 
ley  was  to  no  purpose,  and  only  led  to  an  exchange  of  rather 
rough  compliments  between  Quackenboss  and  my  two  compan 
ions  ;  so  after  endeavoring  to  make  peace  between  them,  I  stood 
still  to  await  the  chance  of  some  one  of  the  guard  coming  within 
hail. 

Fortunately,  at  that  moment,  a  ranger  somewhat  the  worse 
for  aguardiente,  appeared  in  the  direction  of  the  plaza. 

Quackenboss  condescended  to  call  him  up  ;  and  after  a 
crooked  palaver,  he  was  dispatched  to  bring  the  corporal  of  the 
guard. 

The  arrival  of  the  latter  ended  our  troubles,  and  we  were  per 
mitted  to  reach  the  plaza  without  further  hindrance  ;  but  as 
we  passed  the  stern  sentry,  I  could  hear  Rube  mutter  to  him  • 
"  Ee  durned  mulehead  1  ef  I  hed  ye  out  upon  the  parairajs, 
wudn't  I  ?  Wagh  P 


CHAPTER    XLYIII. 

AN    ADIOS. 

TO-MORROW,  and  to-morrow,  and  to-morrow — a  demilune  of 
love,  whose  every  hour  was  consecrated  to  its  god.  At  earliest 
dawn,  by  the  rosy  rays  of  Aurora  ;  at  golden  noon,  shadowed 
under  sweet  acacias  ;  in  the  gleam  of  the  purple  twilight,  Tneath 
the  silvery  light  of  the  moon. 

That  both  laid  our  hearts  upon  his  altar,  and  willing  knelt 
before  the  shrine,  witness  ye  bright  birds  and  balmy  flowers  1 — 


AN   ADIOS.  267 

ye  green  myrtles  and  mimosas  ! — witness  ye  blue  skies  of  Ana- 
huac  !  Ye  alone  were  our  witnesses. 

For  you  who  have  loved,  I  need  not  portray  the  pleasure  of  this 
noble  passion  ;  for  you  who  have  not  loved,  I  cannot.  Love  is 
a  delight  that  may  be  known  only  to  those  who  have  experienced 
it. 

Ours  was  a  half-month  of  happiness  without  alloy.  True, 
there  were  moments  of  pain — the  moments  of  daily  parting — but 
these  were  brief,  and  perhaps  only  prevented  the  cloyment  of  too 
much  joy — if  such  a  thing  be  possible.  Moreover,  these  short 
lived  sorrows  were  in  part  neutralized  by  the  knowledge  we 
should  soon  meet  again  ;  we  never  parted  without  exchanging 
that  fair  promise.  In  the  morning,  it  was  "  hasta  la  tarde  ;"  at 
night,  our  last  words  were  "  manana  por  la  manana."  Lovers 
have  felt,  and  poets  have  sung,  the  pleasures  of  hope  ;  oft  the 
anticipation  of  a  pleasure  rivals  in  piquancy  its  actual  enjoy 
ment. 

Let  memory  not  be  forgotten  ;  it,  too,  has  its  joys  ;  and  oh, 
how  sweet  the  retrospect  of  those  blissful  hours  !  If  there  was 
monotony,  it  was  a  monotony  of  which  my  heart  could  never  tire. 
It  was  an  intoxication  I  could  have  endured  for  life.  There  is  no 
surfeit  of  such  sweets.  Why  are  we  not  permitted  to  enjoy 
them  for  ever  ?  Alas  !  there  is  an  ending. 

There  was  so.  A  crisis  came,  and  we  must  part — not  with  the 
pretty  promise  upon  our  lips — "  until  the  morning,"  "  until  the 
evening,"  but  for  long  weeks,  months,  maybe  years— an  uncer 
tain  time — "  hasta  seacabo  la  guerra  "  (until  the  war  is  over). 

Oh,  the  misery  of  that  parting  !  Cruel  destiny  of  war  1 
Never  felt  I  so  weary  of  wearing  a  sword. 

There  was  a  struggle  'twixt  love  and  duty.  No,  not  duty  :  I 
might  have  sheathed  my  sword,  and  wronged  no  one  ;  I  was  but 
a  cipher  among  thousands,  whose  blade  would  scarcely  have  been 
missed.  Nor  would  I  have  wronged  myself.  I  was  simply,  as 
I  have  already  declared,  an  adventurer.  The  country  for  which 


THE    WAB-TRAIL. 

I  fought  could  not  claim  me  ;  I  was  bound  by  no  political  con 
science,  no  patriotic  esprit.  Perhaps,  now  and  then,  I  entertained 
the  idea  that  I  was  aiding  the  designs  of  "  manifest  destiny  " — 
that  I  was  doing  God's  work  in  battling  against  the  despotic 
form.  Yes,  I  may  confess  that  such  sparks  glowed  within  me  at 
intervals,  and  at  such  intervals  only  did  I  feel  enthusiasm  in  the 
cause.  But  it  was  no  consideration  of  this  kind  that  hindered 
me  from  deserting  my  banner.  Far  otherwise  :  I  was  influenced 
by  a  motive  purely  selfish — pride. 

I  could  not — an  adventurer  almost  penniless — I  would  not  pre 
sume  to  claim  that  richly  doweried  hand.  Fortune  I  might  never 
have  to  equal  hers,  but  fame  is  worthy  wealth,  and  glory  mates 
with  beauty.  I  knew  that  I  was  gifted  with  an  apt  head  and 
a  bold  aspiring  heart  ;  I  knew  that  I  carried  a  keen  blade,  and 
hoped  to  hew  my  way  to  rank  and  fame.  Perhaps  I  might 
return  with  a  star  upon  my  shoulder,  and  a  better  handle  to  my 
name,  and  then 

Ah,  for  all  that,  it  was  a  bitter  parting  I  It  was  hard  to  list 
unheeding  to  those  earnest  entreaties,  adjuring  me  to  stay — ter 
rible  to  untwine  those  tender  arms — terrible  to  utter  that  last 
adios  ! 

Our  troth  was  plighted  within  that  same  galde  that  had  echoed 
our  first  vows.  It  had  been  plighted  a  hundred  times,  but  never 
sadly  as  now,  amidst  sobs  and  tears.  When  the  bright  form, 
screened  by  the  frondage,  had  passed  out  of  sight,  I  felt  as  if  the 
sun  had  become  suddenly  eclipsed.  *  *  * 

I  lingered  not  long,  though  I  could  have  stayed  for  hours  upon 
the  hallowed  spot.  Again  duty,  that  stern  commander,  sum 
moned  me  away.  It  was  already  close  upon  sunset,  and  by  to 
morrow's  dawn  I  must  be  en  route  with  my  troop. 

I  was  about  heading  my  horse  into  the  track,  now,  well  known 
to  me  ;  Isolina  had  gone  down  the  hill  on  the  opposite  side,  by 
a  path  that  led  more  directly  to  the  hacienda.  From  precaution, 
this  had  been  our  hubitual  mode  of  parting  ;  and  we  also  met 


AN   ADIOS.  269 

from  opposite  sides.  In  the  wild  region  of  the  cerro — for  by 
this  name  was  the  hill  Known — we  never  encountered  a  human 
being.  There  was  no  habitation  near,  and  the  vaqueros  rarely 
strayed  that  way,  so  that  our  place  of  meeting  remained  a  secret 
— at  least  we  fancied  so — and  we  acted  without  much  apprehen 
sion,  and  perhaps  without  sufficient  caution.  Each  hour  we  had 
grown  more  confident  of  security,  and,  blinded  by  love,  had 
taken  less  pains  to  conceal  the  fact  of  our  daily  assignation. 
It  was  only  that  morning  I  had  heard  a  whisper  that  our  affair 
was  known,  and  that  they  of  the  rancheria  were  not  as  benighted 
as  we  supposed  them.  Wheatley  was  my  informant — Conchita, 
his.  The  lieutenant  had  added  some  friendly  advice,  cautioning 
me  against  the  imprudence  of  going  so  far  from  the  post  unat 
tended. 

Perhaps  I  might  have  treated  his  remonstrance  with  less 
neglect  ;  but  as  this  was  to  be  our  last  meeting  for  a  long  time, 
my  heart  grew  heavy  under  the  prospect  of  the  parting  scene. 
I  preferred  going  companionless  ;  I  had  no  apprehension  that 
any  enemy  was  near.  As  for  Ijurra,  he  was  no  longer  in  the 
neighborhood  ;  he  had  not  been  saen  since  the  night  of  the 
battle,  and  we  had  positive  information  that  he  joined  his  band 
with  the  guerrilla  of  the  celebrated  Canales — then  operating  on 
the  road  between  Camargo  and  Monterey.  Indeed  had  Ijurra 
been  near,  he  could  hardly  have  escaped  the  keen  search  of 
Holiugs worth  and  the  rangers,  who,  night  and  day,  had  been 
upon  the  scout,  in  hopes  of  overhauling  him. 

I  was  about  turning  into  the  old  track,  when  a  yearning  came 
over  me — a  desire  to  obtain  one  more  look  at  my  beloved.  By 
this  time  she  would  have  reached  her  home  ;  I  should  pass  near 
the  house  ;  perhaps  I  might  see  her  upon  the  azotea — a  distant 
glance — -a  wave  of  the  hand — haply  the  sweet  prayer,  "  va  con 
Dws  '"  wafted  upon  the  breeze  :  something  of  the  kind  I  antici 
pated. 

My  horse  seemed  to  divice  my  wishes  ;  scarcely   waiting  for 


270  THE    WAE-TRAIL. 

the  guidance  of  the  rein,  he  moved  forward  upon  the  path  taken 
by  the  steed  of  Isolina. 

I  soon  reached  the  bottom  of  the  hill,  and,  entering  the  heavy 
timber,  traversed  a  tangled  wood — similar  to  that  on  the  other 
side  of  the  cerro.  There  was  ho  path,  but  the  tracks  of  the 
white  steed  were  easily  followed,  and,  guiding  myself  by  them  I 
rode  forward. 

I  had  -not  gone  five  hundred  yards  from  the  hill,  when  I  heard 
voices  echoing  through  the  woods,  directly  in  front  of  me,  and 
apparently  at  no  great  distance.  Years  of  frontier  life  had 
imbibed  me  with  an  intuitive  caution  that  resembled  instinct  : 
and  as  if  by  a  mechanical  effort,  I  pulled  up  and  listened. 

A  woman  was  speaking  ;  and  instantly  I  recognized  the  voice. 
There  was  but  one  that  rang  with  that  rich  metallic  tone.  I 
might  well  remember  it,  for  the  sweet,  sad  sounds  of  the  va  con 
Dios  had  not  yet  ceased  to  vibrate  in  my  ears. 

With  whom  was  she  in  converse  ?  Whom  had  she  encoun 
tered  in  such  a  place,  amid  the  wild  woods  ? 

She  ceased  speaking.  With  ears  keenly  set,  I  listened  for  the 
rejoinder.  Naturally,  I  expected  it  in  the  voice  of  a  man  ;  but 
not  that  man.  0  heavens  !  it  was  the  voice  of  Rafael  Ijurra  ! 


CHAPTER    XLIX 

THREATS. 

YES,  the  voice  was  Ijurra's.  I  knew  it  well.  While  listening 
to  it  by  the  mesa,  I  had  noted  its  tones  sufficiently  to  remember 
them — round,  sonorous,  of  true  Spanish  accent,  and  not  inhar 
monious,  though  at  that  moment  they  grated  harshly  upon  my 
ear. 


THREATS.  271 

An  indescribable  feeling  came  over  me  :  it  was  not  jealousy — • 
i  was  too  confident  to  be  jealous — and  yet,  I  shame  to  confess 
I  felt  a  sensation  sadly  akin  to  it.  After  those  earnest  oaths, 
those  tears  and  frenzied  kisses,  so  soon  after  !  O  shame  upon  me! 

Alas  !  the  experienced  heart  no  more  enjoys  the  tranquil 
continuity  of  faith.  Its  belief  is  like  a  broken  dream — an  inter- 
mittence  of  light  and  shade.  It  was  my  misfortune,  my  error, 
perhaps  my  crime,  to  remember  too  many  pairs  of  pretty  per 
jured  lips. 

In  a  word,  I  was  once  more  jealous,  in  spite  of  all  that  had 
passed — of  sighs,  and  tears,  and  plighted  vows — once  more  jea 
lous  of  Ijurra  ! 

But  the  moment  before,  his  name  was  on  her  tongue,  and  spo 
ken  with  scorn  ;  in  the  same  breath  I  was  assured  that  he  was 
no  longer  in  the  neighborhood,  that  he  was  far  away. 

No  ;  he  was  upon  the  spot,  in  close  conversation  with  her, 
and  scarcely  five  minutes  after  the  oath  had  been  sworn  that 
bound  her  to  me  for  life  !  Less  wonder  I  was  jealous. 

That  the  feeling  lasted  only  for  'an  instant  might  be  some 
palliation,  but  it  was  no  merit  of  mine  that  brought  it  so  quickly 
to  a  termination.  I  cannot  screen  my  conduct  behind  an  act  of 
volition  ;  for  although  the  poisoned  sting  rankled  but  for  a  few- 
moments,  during  that  short  period  I  yielded  obedience  to  its 
demoniac  promptings. 

I  slipt  down  gently  from  my  saddle,  and  with  the  crouching 
gait  and  silent  tread  of  the  jaguar,  approached  the  speakers. 
My  horse,  well  trained  to  such  tactics,  stayed  where  I  had  dis 
mounted,  without  tie  or  hopple.  No  fear  that  bis  hoof  would 
betray  me 

Step  by  step  I  advanced,  with  my  hands  cautiously  parting 
the  boughs.  The  fronds  of  a  curious  sabal  palm  befriended 
me.  They  grew  vertically  on  short  petioles,  like  large  green 
fans  ;  and  overlaying  one  another,  formed  a  perfect  screen, 


272  THE   WAB-TEAIL. 

through  which  the  keenest  eye  could  not  perceive  the  approach 
of  an  intruder. 

In  a  few  seconds,  I  stood  behind  the  last  row  that  bounded 
the  edge  of  a  small  opening  ;  and  peering  through  the  serrate 
interstices  of  the  leaves,  I  saw  my  betrothed  and  her  cousin. 
Isolina  was  still  in  the  saddle.  Ijurra  was  on  foot,  and  stand 
ing  by  her  stirrup,  with  one  hand  resting  upon  the  pommel,  the 
other  grasping  the  rein. 

Tip  to  this  moment,  my  heart  had  continued  its  painful  throb 
bing  ;  but  the  attitude  of  Ijurra,  with  his  troubled  and  angry 
look,  at  once  produced  a  revulsion  in  my  feelings.  I  saw  that 
the  encounter  had  been  accidental — at  least  on  the  part  of 
Isolina  ;  I  saw  that  she  was  detained.  I  could  not  see  her  face; 
it  was  turned  in  the  opposite  direction,  and  towards  Ijurra  ; 
but  the  tones  of  her  voice  reached  me,  and  by  these  I  perceived 
that  she  addressed  him  in  anger.  Oh,  how  those  accents  of 
indignation  ravished  my  heart  ;  sweeter  were  they  to  me  than 
the  softest  melody  ! 

As  yet,  I  had  heard  nothing  of  what  had  passed  between  them ; 
the  loud  beating  of  my  heart,  the  rustling  of  the  leaves  under 
my  feet,  of  the  boughs  as  I  pressed  through  them,  had  prevented 
me  from  distinguishing  what  was  said.  These  sounds  ceased  as 
1  came  to  a  stop  ;  and  although  still  fifty  paces  distant  from  the 
speakers,  I  conld  catch  every  word  of  their  conversation,  from 
the  loud  tone  in  which  it  was  carried  on. 

"  So  then  you  refuse  ?" 

It  was  Ijurra  who  put  this  interrogatory 

"  I  have  done  so  before,  Rafael  ;  your  conduct  has  given  me 
no  cause  to  change  my  mind." 

"  Ha  !  my  conduct  has  nothing  to  do  with  it  ;  you  have  other 
reasons.  Isolina,  do  not  imagine  I  am  such  a  bobo.  I  know 
your  secret :  you  love  this  gringo — this  Yankee  captain. 

"  And  suppose  I  do,  that  is  my  affair.     ]Nay,  more  sir,  I  shal? 


THREATS.  273 

not  even  attempt  to  make  a  secret  of  it.  I  do  love  him — I  do — 
I  do" 

Imrra's  eyes  gleamed  with  malignant  fire  ;  his  lips  turned 
white,  and  tightened  over  his  teeth  ;  he  seemed  endeavoring  to 
curb  the  exposure  of  his  spleen 

"  And  you  would  marry  him  ?"  he  asked,  with  compressed 
emphasis. 

"  I  shall  marry  him,"  was  the  prompt  reply. 

"  Por  todos  santos  *  it  shall  never  be." 

44  And  who  is  to  nindcr  it  ?" 

it  j  ;> 

'  Ha,  ha,  ha  !     You  are  raving,  Rafael  Ijurra  !" 

"  You  may  love  him  to  your  heart's  content — I  care  not  ;  but 
marry  him — never  ;  s'deMh  !  never  !" 

"Indeed?" 

"  By  the  saints  I  swear  it.     I  swear  " 

"You  have  sworn  enough  :  you  are  sufficiently  perjured 
already." 

"  Carrai !"  furiously  shouted  Ijurra,  as 'if  losing  patience. 
"  Listen  to  me,  Isolina  de  Vargas  !  I  have  something  to  say 
that  may  not  be  so  pleasant " 

"  You  can  say  nothing  pleasant,  but  I  listen." 

"First,  then,  here  are  certa-in  documents  that  concern  you — • 
both  you  and  your  father." 

I  saw  some  folded  papers  in  his  hand  which  he  had  taken 
from  under  his  jacket.  He  opened  and  held  them  before  her 
face,  as  he  continued  : 

"  This  safeguard  is  one  given  by  the  American  commander-in- 
chief  to  the  Dona  Isolina  de  Vargas.  Perhaps  you  have  seen 
it  before  ?  And  here  is  a  letter  from  Don  Ramon  de  Vargas  tc 
the  commissary-general  of  the  American  army,  inclosed  within 
another  from  that  functionary  to  your  pet  filibu«tero-  -a  pretty 
piece  of  treason  this  !" 

"Well  sir?" 

12* 


274:  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

"  Not  so  well  for  you,  madame.  You  forget  that  General 
Santa  Anna  is  now  chief  of  this  republic.  Think  you  he  will 
not  punish  such  traitorous  correspondence?  Carrambo !  if  I 
but  lay  these  documents  before  him,  I  shall  have  an  order  for 
the  arrest  of  both  yourself  and  your  Ayankieado  father  as 
quickly  as  it  can  be  spoken.  Nay,  more  •  the  estate  will  be 
prescript  and  confiscated — it  will  become  mine — mine  I" 

The  speaker  paused,  as  if  for  an  answer.  Isolina  remained 
silent.  I  could  not  see  her  face  to  notice  the  effect.  I  fancied 
that  the  threat  had  terrified  her.  Ijurra  continued  : 

"  Now,  senorita  !  you  better  comprehend  our  relative  posi 
tions.  Give  your  consent  to  become  my  wife,  and  these  papers 
shall  be  destroyed  on  the  instant." 

"  Never  !"  was  the  firm  response  that  delighted  my  ears. 

"  Never  !"  echoed  Ijurra  ;  "  then  dread  the  consequences.  I 
shall  obtain  orders  for  your  arrest,  and  as  soon  as  this  horde  -of 
Yankee  ruffians  has  been  driven  from  the  country,  the  property 
shall  be  mine." 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha  1"  came  the  scornful  laugh  in  reply — "  ha,  ha, 
ha  !  you  mistake,  Rafael  Ijurra  ;  you  are  not  so  far-sighted  as 
you  deem  yourself  ;  you  forget  that  my  fathers  land  lies  on  the 
Texan  side  of  the  Rio  Grande  ;  and  ere  that  horde  of  Yankee 
ruffians  as  you  term  them,  be  driven  out,  they  will  establish  this 
river  for  their  boundary.  Where  then  will  lie  the  power  of  con 
fiscation  ?  Not  with  you  and  your  cowardly  master.  Ha,  ha. 
ha!" 

The  reply  maddened  Ijurra  still  further,  for  he  saw  the  prona- 
bility  of  what  had  been  said.  His  face  became  livid,  and  he 
seemed  to  lose  all  control  of  himself. 

"  Even  so,"  he  shouted,  with  the  addition  of  a  fierce  oath — 
"  even  so,  you  shall  never  inherit  those  lands.  Listen  Isolina  de 
Vargas  ;  listen  to  another  secret  I  have  for  you  :  know,  sefiorita, 
that  you  are  not  the  lawful  daughter  of  Don  Ramon  I" 

1  saw  the  proud  girl  start,  as  if  struck  with  an  arrow. 


THREATS. 


275 


"I  have  the  proofs  of  what  I  repeat,"  continued  Jjurra;  "  and 
even  should  the  United  States  triumph,  its  laws  cannot  make 
you  legitimate.  You  are  not  the  heiress  cf  the  hacienda  de 
Vargas  !" 

As  yet  not  a  word  from  Isolina.  She  sat  silent  and  motion- 
ess,  but  I  could  tell  by  the  rising  and  falling  of  her  shoulders 
that  a  terrible  storm  was  gathering  in  her  bosom 

The  fiend  continued  : 

<s  Now,  madame,  you  may  know  hew  disinterested  it  was  of 
me  to  offer  you  marriage  ;  nay,  more,  I  never  loved  you  ;  I 
told  you  so,  it  was  a  lie  " 

He  never  lied  in  his  life  as  he  was  doing  at  that  moment. 
His  face  bespoke  the  falsehood  of  his  words.  It  was  the  utter 
ance  of  purest  spleen.  I  read  in  his  look  the  unmistakable 
expression  of  jealousy.  Coarse  as  the  passion  may  have  been, 
he  loved  her — oh  I  how  could  it  have  been  otherwise  ? 

"  Love  you,  indeed  !  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  love  you — the  daughter 
of  a  poor  Indian — a  margarita .'" 

The  climax  had  come.  The  heaving  bosom  could  bear  silence 
no  longer  ;  the  insult  was  unendurable. 

"  Base  wretch  I"  cried  she,  in  a  voice  of  compressed  agony, 
11  stand  aside  from  my  path  !" 

11  Not  yet,"  answered  Ijurra,  grasping  the  bridle  more  firmly. 
"  I  have  something  farther  to  communicate  " 

"  Villain  1  release  the  rein  1'' 

"Before  I  do,  you  shall  promise — you  shall  swear" • 

"  Again  1  let  go  !  or  this  bullet  to  your  heart  !" 

I  had  sprung  from  out  the  thicket,  and  was  running  forward 
to  her  rescue.  I  saw  her  right  hand  on  high,  and  something 
shining  in  its  grasp.  It  was  a  pistol.  Its  muzzle  was  turned 
upon  Ijurra. 

No  doubt  the  resolute  character  of  her  who  held  it  was  well 
known  to  him,  for  the  threat  produced  an  immediate  effect ;  the 
coward  relaxed  his  hold,  the  reins  dropped  from,  his  fingers,  and 


276  THE   WAK-TKAIL. 

with  a  mingled  look  of  hatred  and  fear,  he  stepped  back  a 
pace. 

The  moment  the  bridle  became  free,  the  steed,  already  star 
tied  by  the  spur,  bounded  forward,  and  after  half-a-dozen  springs, 
both  horse  and  rider  disappeared  behind  the  screen  of  the  pal- 
mettoes. 

I  was  too  late  to  play  the  knight-errant.  The  "  ladjj  faire  '' 
had  not  needed  my  help  ;  she  neither  saw  nor  heard  me  :  and 
by  the  time  I  arrived  upon  the  ground,  she  had  passed  out 
of  sight,  and  Ijurra  was  alone. 


CHAPTER    L. 

AWKWARD    ODDS. 

IJURRA  was  alone,  and  I  continued  to  advance  to  the  spot 
where  he  was  standing.  His  back  was  towards  me,  for  he  still 
fronted  in  the  direction  in  which  Isolina  had  galloped  off.  He 
had  followed  her  with  his  eyes,  with  a  cry  of  disappointed  rage, 
with  a  threat  of  malignant  vengeance. 

The  sound  of  his  own  voice  hindered  him  from  hearing  mine, 
and  he  was  not  aware  of  my  presence,  when  I  paused  scarcely 
three  feet  from  where  he  stood,  arid  directly  behind  him.  I  held 
my  sword  drawn  ;  I  could  have  thrust  him  in  the  back,  through 
and  through  again,  before  he  could  have  dfered  either  defence  or 
resistance.  He  was  completely  in  my  power. 

Fortunate  was  it  for  him  at  that  moment  that  I  had  been 
bred  a  gentleman,  else  in  another  instant  his  lifeless  body  would 
have  lain  at  my  feet.  A  plebeian  blade  would  have  made  short 
work  with  the  ruffian,  and  I  confess  that  my  instincts  of  fair 
play  were  sorely  tried.  I  had  before  me  a  man  who  had  sought 
my  life — a  deadly  foe  — a  deadly  foe  to  her  I  loved — a  perjured 


AWKWARD   ODDS.  277 

villain— a  mmderer  !  With  such  titles  for  himself,  he  had  none 
to  the  laws  of  honor  ;  and  I  confess  that  for  one  short  moment, 
I  felt  like  ignoring  his  claim.  'Twas  but  for  a  moment  :  the 
thought  revolted.  Wicked  and  worthless  as  he  was,  I  could  not 
stab  him  in<  the  back. 

I  leaned  forward,  and  tapping  him  upon  the  shoulder,  pro 
nounced  his  name. 

It  was  the  first  intimation  he  had  of  my  presence  ;  and  start- 
iLg  as  if  hit  by  a  bullet,  he  turned  face  towards  me.  The  flush 
of  anger  upon  his  cheek  suddenly  gave  place  to  a  deadly  pallor, 
and  his  eyes  became  set  in  that  peculiar  stare  that  indicates  an 
apprehension  of  danger.  This  he  must  have  felt  keenly,  for  my 
determined  look  and  drawn  sword — to  say  nothing  of  the  sur 
prise  by  which  I  had  come  upon  him — were  calculated  to  pro- 
dnce  that  effect. 

It  was  the  first  time  we  had  stood  face  to  face,  and  I  now 
perceived  that  he  was  a  much  larger  man  than  myself.  But  I 
saw,  too,  that  his  eye  quailed  and  his  lip  quivered  at  the  encoun 
ter.  I  saw  that  he  was  cowed  ;  and  I  felt  that  I  was  his 
master. 

"  You  are  Rafael  Ijurra  1"  I  repeated,  as  he  had  not  made 
answer  to  my  first  interrogation. 

"  Si  sector,**  he  answered  hesitatingly.  "  What  want  you  with 
me?" 

"  You  have  some  documents  there  "  (he  still  held  the  papers 
in  his  hand)  ;  "  a  portion  of  them  belongs  to  me.  I  shall  trou 
ble  you  to  hand  them  over." 

"  Are  you  Captain  Warfield  ?"  he  asked,  after  a  pause,  at  the 
same  time  pretending  to  examine  the  superscription  upon  the 
commissary's  letter.  I  sa,w  that  his  fingers  trembled. 

"  I  am  Captain  Warfield — you  ought  to  know  by  this  time." 

Without  noticing  the  insinuation,  be  replied  :  "  True — there 
is  a  letter  here  bearing  that  address.  I  found  it  upon  the  road  ; 
you  are  welcome  to  it,  senor." 


278  THE   WAR-TKAIL. 

As  he  said  this,  he  handed  me  the  commissary's  order,  still 
retaining  the  other  documents. 

"There  was  an  inclosure  ?  I  perceive  you  have  it  in 
your  hand.  I  beg  you  will  make  me  equally  welcome  to  that." 

"  Oh  !  a  note  signed  Ramon  de  Yargas  ?  It  was  an  enclo 
sure  ?" 

"  Precisely  so  5  and   of  course   goes   along  with  the  letter." 

"  0  certainly  :  here  it  is  senor." 

"  There  is  still  another  little  document  in  your  possession — a 
safeguard  from  the  American  commander  granted  to  a  certain 
lady.  It  is  not  yours,  Senor  Ijurra  !  I  beg  you  will  deliver  it 
to  me.  I  wish  to  return  it  to  the  lady  to  whom  it  belongs." 

This  was  the  bitterest  pill  I  had  yet  presented  to  him.  He 
glanced  hastily  first  to  the  right  and  th^ri  to  the  left,  as  if  desi 
rous  of  making  escape.  He  would  fain  have  done  so,  but  I  kept 
him  under  my  eye,  and  he  saw  that  my  hand  was  ready. 

"  Certainly  there  is  a  safeguard,"  replied  he,  after  a  pause,  and 
with  a  feigned  attempt  at  laughter.  "  'Tis  a  worthless  docu 
ment  to  me  ;  'tis  at  your  service,  sir  captain  ;"  and  as  he  handed 
me  the  paper  he  accompanied  the  act  with  another  sorry 
cachinnation. 

I  folded  the  precious  documents,  and  thrust  all  three  under 
the  breast  of  my  coat  ;  then  placing  myself  in  fighting  attitude, 
I  cried  out  to  my  adversary  to  "  draw  and  defend  himself." 

I  had  already  noticed  that  he  wore  a  sword,  and,  like  myself, 
it  appeared  to  be  the  only  weapon  he  carried.  I  saw  no  pistols 
upon  his  person.  I  had  none  myself — nothing  save  a  light  cut- 
and-thrust  sword.  It  was  far  slighter  than  the  sabre  of  my 
antagonist,  but  it  was  a  weapon  that  had  seen  service  in 
my  hands,  and  I  had  perfect  confidence  in  it.  I  had  no  fear 
for  the  result  against  so  cowardly  an  adversary  ;  I  was  not 
awed,  either  by  his  heavier  blade,  or  the  superior  size  of  his  per 
son. 

To  my  astonishment,  he  hesitated  to  unsheathe  his  sword  1 


AWKWARD   ODDS.  279 

"  You  muse  draw,"  I  shouted  with  emphasis.  "  You  or  I 
have  now  to  die.  If  you  do  not  defend  yourself  I  shall  run  you 
through  the  body.  Coward  !  would  you  have  me  kill  you  with 
your  blade  in  its  sheath  ?" 

F^en  the  taunt  did  not  nerve  him.  Never  saw  I  so  complete 
a  poltroon.  His  white  lips  trembled,  his  eyes  rolled  wildly  from 
side  to  side,  seeking  an  opportunity  to  escape,  for  I  am  certain 
that  could  he  have  hoped  to  get  clear,  he  would  at  that  crisis 
have  turned  and  run. 

All  at  once,  and  to  my  surprise,  the  coward  appeared  smitten 
with  courage  ;  and  grasping  the  hilt  of  his  sabre,  he  drew  the 
blade  ringing  from  its  scabbard,  with  all  the  energy  of  a  deter 
mined  man  !  His  reluctance  to  fight  seemed  suddenly  to  have 
forsaken  him.  Had  I  mistaken  my  man  ?  or  was  it  despair  that 
was  nerving  his  arm  ? 

His  cowed  look  had  disappeared  ;  his  eyes  flashed  with  fury 
and  vengeance  ;  his  teeth  gritted  together  ;  and  a  fierce  carojo 
hissed  from  his  lips. 

Our  blades  met — the  sparks  crackled  from  the  creasing  steel, 
and  the  combat  began. 

Fortunate  for  me,  that,  in  avoiding  the  first  lounge  of  my 
antagonist,  I  had  to  turn  half  round  ;  fortunately  I  turned  sc 
soon,  else  I  should  never  have  left  that  glade  alive. 

As  I  faced  in  the  new  direction,  I  saw  two  men  running 
towards  us,  sword  in  hand.  A  single  glance  told  me  they  were 
guerrilleros.  They  were  already  within  ten  paces  of  the  spot, 
and  must  have  been  seen  long  before  by  Ijurra, 

This  was  the  key  to  his  altered  demeanor.  Their  approach 
_t  was  that  had  inspired  him  with  courage  to  begin  the  fijjjht,  for 
he  had  calculated  the  time  when  they  should  be  able  to  get  up, 
And  assail  me  from  behind. 

*' Holaf"  shouted  he,  seeing  that  I  had  discovered  them-— 
"  Hola  !  El  Zorro — Jose  !  anda  '   anda  !  Mueran  los    Hankies 
con  d  picaro  /" 


280  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

For  the  first  time,  I  felt  myself  in  danger.  Three  swords  to 
one  was  awkward  odds  ;  and  the  red  giant,  with  a  companion 
nearly  as  large  as  himself,  would  no  doubt  prove  very  different 
antagonists  from  the  poltroon  with  whom  I  was  engaged.  Yes, 
I  was  conscious  of  danger,  and  might  have  retreated,  had  I 
deemed  such  a  course  possible  ;  but  my  horse  was  too  far  off, 
and  the  new  comers  were  directly  in  the  path  I  should  hava 
to  take  to  reach  him.  I  could  not  hope  to  escape  on  foot  ;  I 
well  knew  that  these  men  run  as  lightly  as  Indians,  for  we  had 
often  proved  their  capacity  in  that  accomplishment.  They  were 
already  too  near.  I  should  be  overtaken,  struck  down,  pierced, 
with  my  back  to  the  foe. 

I  had  no  time  to  reflect — just  enough  to  leap  back  a  pace  or 
two,  so  as  to  bring  all  three  of  them  in  front  of  me,  when  I 
found  my  sword  clashing  against  their  blades,  and  parrying  their 
blows  one  after  the  other. 

I  can  describe  the  unequal  combat  no  further.  It  was  a  con 
fused  medley  of  cut  and  thrust,  in  which  I  both  gave  wounds  and 
received  them.  I  was  wounded  in  several  places,  and  felt  the 
warm  blood  running  under  my  clothes  and  over  my  face.  I  was 
wearied  to  death,  and  every  second  growing  weaker  and  fainter. 
I  saw  the  red  giant  before  me  with  his  hand  raised  on  high.  His 
blade  had  already  drawn  my  blood,  and  was  crimsoned  at  the 
point  ;  it  was  about  to  descend  with  a  finishing  stroke.  I 
should  be  unable  to  parry  it,  for  I  had  just  exhausted  my 
strength  in  guarding  against  a  blow  from  Ijurra.  My  hopeless 
peril  wrung  from  me  a  cry  of  despair. 

Was  it  my  cry  that  caused  the  blade  to  drop  from  the  hand  of 
my  antagonist,  and  the  uplifted  arm  to  fall  loosely  by  his  sice  ? 
Was  it  my  cry  that  created  the  consternation  suddenly  visible 
in  the  faces  of  my  foes  ?  I  might  have  fancied  so,  had  I  not 
heard  a  sharp  crack  from  behind,  and  seen  that  the  arm  of  El 
Zorro  was  broken  by  a  shot  ! 

It   seemed  like  the  awaking  *Yom  some  horrid  dream.     O'»« 


AWKWARD   ODDS.  281 

moment  I  was  battling,  face  to  face,  with  three  desperate  men  ; 
the  instant  after,  their  backs  were  towards  me,  and  all  three 
were  running  as  for  life  ! 

I  followed  them  with  my  eyes,  but  not  far  ;  for  at  twenty 
paces  off  they  plunged  into  the  thicket,  and  disappeared. 

I  turned  in  the  opposite  direction.  A  man  was  running  across 
the  open  ground  with  a  gun  in  his  hand  ;  he  was  advancing 
toward  the  spot  where  I  stood.  It  was  he  who  had  fired  the 
shot.  I  saw  that  he  was  in  Mexfcan  costume  ;  surely  he  was 
one  of  the  guerrilleros — he  had  aimed  at  me,  and  wounded  his 
.•-omrade  ? 

For  some  seconds,  I  fancied  that  such  might  be  the  case. 
Evidently  he  was  bolder  than  any  of  the  three,  for  he  continued 
to  advance,  as  if  determined  to  attack  me  alone  ! 

I  placed  myself  in  readiness  for  this  new  antagonist,  taking  a 
fresh  grasp  on  my  sword,  and  wiping  the  blood  from  my  eyes, 
that  I  might  the  better  receive  him. 

It  was  not  until  he  was  close  to  the  point  of  my  blade,  that  I 
recognized  the  long  ape-like  arms,  and  crooked  mateless  limbs  01 
Elijah  Quackenboss  1 


282  THE   WAB-TKAIL. 


CHAPTER     LI. 

AN     OFFICIAL     BLACK     LIST. 

THE  ranger,  after  delivering  his  fire,  had  not  waited  to  reload, 
but  ran  forward  with  the  intention  of  joining  me  in  the  hand-ten 
hand  fight,  though  he  carried  no  other  weapon  than  his  empty 
gun.  But  this  would  have  been  an  efficient  arm  in  such  hands  , 
for,  despite  his  unsymmetrical  build,  Dutch  Lige  was  stalwart 
and  tough,  and  would  have  been  a  full  match  for  any  two  of  my 
assailants,  had  they  stood  their  ground.  But  the  crack  of  the 
gun  had  set  them  off  like  deer.  They  fancied,  no  doubt,  that  a 
stronger  force  was  near ;  perhaps  they  remembered  the  terrible 
rifles  of  the  trappers,  and  no  doubt  believed  it  was  they  who 
had  arrived  to  the  rescue.  Indeed,  such  was  my  own  belief, 
until  I  saw  the  oddly  costumed  ranger  bounding  towartls  the 
spot. 

A  glance  satisfied  me  that  I  owed  my  preservation  to  Lige's 
love  of  botanical  science.  A  large  globe-shaped  cactus  plant, 
bristling  like  a  hedgehog,  hung  dangling  from  the  swivel  of  his 
gun-^it  was  thus  carried  to  save  his  fingers  from  contact  with 
its  barbed  spines — while  stuck  into  every  loop  and  button  hole 
of  his  dress  could  be  seen  the  leaves  and  branchlets,  and  fruits 
and  flowers,  of  a  host  of  curious  and  unknown  plants.  He  had 
been  herborizing  in  the  woods  ;  and  coming  by  chance  within 
ear-shot  of  the  scuffle,  had  scrambled  through  the  bushes  just  in 
time  to  spoil  the  coup-de-grace  intended  by  El  Zorro. 

"  Thanks,  Quackenboss  !  thanks,  my  brave  friend  !  you  came 
in  good  time-:  you  have  saved  me." 

"  But  a  poor  shot  I've  made,  capten.     I  ought  to  have  brokec 


AN   01TTCJAL   BLACK   LIST.  283 

that  red  divel's  skull,  or  sent  my  bullet  into  his  stomach  ;  he's 
got  off  too  easy.7' 

"  It  was  a  good  shot  :  you  broke  his  arm,  I  think." 

"  Ach  1  'twas  a  poor  shot  ;  the  cactus  spoiled  my  aim.  You 
hurt,  capten  ?" 

"  I  am  wounded,  but  not  mortally,  I  think.  I  feel  a  liitle 
faint :  'tis  only  the  blood.  My  horse — you  will  find  him  yon 
der — among  the  trees — yonder.  Go,  Lige  ;  bring  my  horse — 
my  horse  " 

For  some  minutes,  I  was  out  of  the  world.  When  conscious 
ness  came  back,  I  perceived  that  my  steed  had  been  brought  np 
and  stood  near.  The  botanist  was  bending  over  me,  and  binding 
up  my  wounds  with  strips  torn  from  his  own  shirt.  He  had  one 
boot  on  ;  the  other  stood  by,  full  of  water,  a  portion  of  which 
he  had  already  poured  down  my  throat,  and  with  the  rest  he 
proceeded  to  bathe  my  temples  and  wash  the  blood  from  my  face. 

This  done,  I  soon  felt  refreshed  and  strong  enough  to  mount  ; 
and  having  climbed  into  the  saddle,  I  set  out  for  the  raucheria, 
my  companion  half  guiding,  half  leading  my  horse. 

By  the  path  which  we  followed,  we  should  have  to  pass  close 
to  the  hacienda  and  within  sight  of  it ;  but  night  had  come  on, 
and  the  darkness  would  hinder  us  from  being  observed.  It  was 
what  I  now  desired,  though  I  had  left  the  cerrb  with  hopes  and 
wishes  directly  the  reverse.  With  a  red  gash  upon  rny  forehead 
— my  uniform  torn  and  bloodstained — I  feared  being  seen,  lest 
my  invalid  appearance  should  create  unnecessary  alarm.  But 
we  passed  on  without  meeting  any  one,  either  by  the  hill  or 
upon  the  main  road  ;  and  in  half  an  hour  after,  I  was  safe  with 
in  my  cuarto  in  the  house  of  the  alcalde.  *  *  * 

The  incidents  of  the  day  preyed  upon  my  spirits,  and  I  was  far 
from  feeling  easy  about  the  future.  I  knew  that  my  betrothed 
would  be  true  till  death  ;  and  I  felt  ashamed  that  I  had  doubted 
her,  even  for  a  moment.  About  her  loyalty  I  had  no  uneasiness, 
and  I  mentally  vowed  never  more  to  give  way  to  suspicion. 


284:  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

It  was  no  thought  of  that  that  now  troubled  me,  but  an  anj- 
iety  about  her  personal  safety  ;  and  this  grew  stronger  the  more 
I  pondered  upon  it,  till  it  assumed  almost  the  form  of  a  fear. 

The  man  who  had  used  such  bitter  threats,  and  behaved  with 
so  much  rudeness,  would  scarcely  stop  at  anything.  'Tis  true  I 
had  deprived  him  of  much  of  his  power  over  her,  by  stripping 
him  of  the  dangerous  documents  ;  but  it  was  not  the  time,  nor 
was  he  the  man  to  stand  upon  nice  distinctions  of  legality,  where 
jealousy  and  cupidity  were  the  incentives  to  action.  Holding 
a  sort  of  irresponsible  office  as  the  chief  of  what  was  less  a  pa 
triotic  guerrilla  than  a  band  of  brigands,  it  was  difficult  to  tell 
what  such  a  monster  might  or  might  not  attempt.  In  our  absence 
from  the  post  the  ruffian  would  be  fuli  master  of  the  neighbor 
hood.  What  deed  might  he  not  accomplish  with  impunity,  hold 
ing  his  power  directly  from  the  unprincipled  dictator,  whom  he 
was  accustomed  to  imitate  as  a  model,  and  who  would  endorse  any 
act  of  villainy,  provided  it  was  the  act  of  one  of  his  own  satel 
lites.  I  shuddered  as  I  reflected. 

The  reappearance  of  Ijurra  and  his  band — for  I  doubled  not 
that  his  followers  were  near — their  reappearance  in  that  vicinity, 
and  at  such  a  crisis — just  as  we  were  being  withdrawn — had 
something  ominous  in  it.  They  must  have  known  ere  this  of 
the  plan  of  campaign  designed  for  the  American  army.  Wheat- 
ley's  rumor  had  proved  well-founded.  The  new  Commander-in- 
chief,  Scott,  had  arrived  upon  the  ground,  and  three-fourths  of 
the  '*  army  of  occupation "  had  been  draughted  to  form  the 
expedition  destined  to  act  upon  Yera  Cruz.  As  this  greedy 
general  stripped  our  old  favorite  "  Rough  and  Ready  "  of  only 
his  best  troops,  we  had  the  consolation  of  knowing  that  the  "  ran 
gers  "  were  among  the  "  picked  ;"  though  for  all  that,  many  of 
us  would  have  preferred  remaining  with  the  brave  veteran  wlio 
had  already  led  us  so  often  to  victory.  I  can  answer  for  Wheat- 
ley  and  myself  ;  I  might  also  vouch  for  Holingsworth  though 
far  different  were  his  motives  for  wisl  ng  to  remain  on  the  Rte 


AN    OFFICIAL    BLACK    LIST.  285 

Grande.  His  sweetheart  was  revenge — in  his  breast  long  cher 
ished — to  his  heart  faithful  and  true. 

I  have  said  that  our  design  must  have  been  known  ere  this  ; 
indeed  the  army  was  already  in  movement,  Troops  and  brigades 
were  marching  upon  Brazos  Santiago,  and  Tampico,  there  to  be 
embarked  fop  the  south,  and  all  that  were  to  go  had  received 
their  orders.  The  provinces  on  the  Rio  Grande  were  not  to  be 
entirely  abandoned,  but  the  army  left  there  was  to  have  its  lines 
contracted,  and  would  therefore  cover  much  less  ground.  Not 
only  was  our  little  post  to  be  deserted,  but  the  neighboring 
town,  which  had  long  been  the  head-quarters  of  a  division,  was 
also  to  be  evacuated.  No  force  of  our  army  would  remain  with 
in  fifty  miles  of  the  rancheria  ;  and  perhaps  no  American  troop 
would  ever  again  visit  that  isolated  village.  The  reflection  ren- 
derec  me  more  than  melancholy. 

No  doubt  of  it — the  enemy  was  apprised  of  our  movements. 
In  our  specia  case — that  we  the  rangers  were  to  march  on  the 
following  morning  -was  well  known  to  the  people  of  the  neigh 
borhood.  It  had  been  known  to  them  for  several  days  ;  and  it 
bad  not  passed  unobserved  by  us  that  the  citizens  of  the  place — 
those  who  were  not  Ayankieados^— had  lately  shown  themselves 
more  sulky  and  inhospitable,  in  proportion  as  the  time  approached 
for  our  departure.  This  Irusqvwie  had  led  to  several  street- con 
flicts,  in  which  knives  had  been  drawn  and  blood  spilled,  and 
much  "  bad  blood  "  begotten  on  both  sides. 

Another  circumstance  was  not  unnoticed  amongst  us.  Ribald 
pasquinades,  rudely  written,  and  accompanied  by  threats  of  pro 
scription,  were  at  this  time  thrust  under  the  doors  of  .such  of  the 
citizens  as  had  been  friendly  to  us.  Even  the  alcalde  had 
received  some  documents  of  this  character — perhaps  emanating 
'rom  a  jealous  tizndero  who  had  looked  with  bitter  eye  upon  the 
courtship  of  Wheatley  and  Concbita.  It  wa.s  not  till  afterwards 
I  learned  that  similar  missives  had  "come  tc  "land"  in  a  quarter 
that  more  concerned  myself. 


286  THE   WAK-TBAIL. 

Some  scented  the  absurdity  of  these  acts,  alleging  that  he) 
sprung  from  personal  enmity,  or  originated  in  the  mob-patriotism 
of  the  kperos.  It  was  riot  so,  as  I  afterwards  learned  ;  the 
government  of  the  country,  or  at  all  events,  several  of  its  pro 
minent  members,  countenanced  the  meanness  ;  and  at  their  insti 
gation,  a  "  black  list "  was  made  out  in  every  town  and  Tillage 
through  which  the  American  army  had  occasion  to  pass.  Let 
the  minister,  Senor  0 ,  make  answer  to  this  accusation. 

I  was  musing  on  this  disagreeable  theme,  after  my  return 
from  the  cerro,  and  endeavoring  to  sketch  out  some  plan  for  the 
safety  of  my  betrothed  during  my  absence  ;  but  my  thoughts 
proved  barren.  With  a  sort  of  faint  hope  that  the  villain  Ijurra 
might  yet  fall  into  our  hands,  I  had  dispatched  Huingsworth 
— nothing  loath  for  the  duty — with  a  party  of  rangers  upon  hig 
trail,  and  I  was  impatiently  awaiting  their  return. 

The  voice  of  Wheatley  aroused  me  from  my  reverie. 

"Well,  lieutenant,  what  i?  it  T' 

"  Only  that  precious  boy,"  answered  he,  with  a  significant 
smile,  at  the  same  time  ushering  "  Cyprio  n  into  the  room. 

The  lad  carried  a  note,  which  T  opened.  A  green  sprig  of 
juniper  was  enclosed  and  the  simple  word  "  tuya  "  was  written 
in  pencil.  I  knew  the  symbol  well.  The  juniper  is  tuya  in  that 
most  beautiful  of  tongues,  ard  tuya  from  a  lady  signifies  '  yours." 

"  Anything  more  ¥'  I  asked  of  the  messenger. 

"  Nothing,  Senor  Capitan,"  answered  the  intelligent  boy  ; 
"only  to  inquire  if  you  had  arrived  safe." 

She  bad  been  anxious  then  1 

I  separated  the  branchlet  into  two  equal  parts  ;  one  i  placed 
in  my  bosom  :  the  other  having  fervently  kissed,  I  inclosed  in  a 
folded  sheet,  upon  which  I  wrote  the  words  : 

"  Tuyo — fuyo — hast  a  la  muerte  f' 

Cyprio  bore  back  my  parting  message. 

At  midnight,  Holingsworth  and  his  party  came  in  from  the 
scout.  Nothing  had  bren  seen  of  the  guerrilla. 


THE    ROUTE.  287 


CHAPTER   LII. 

THE      ROUTE. 

7  was  a  struggle  between  Aurora  and  the  moon  which  of 
tiiec:  should  rule  the  sky,  when  our  bngle  rang  its  clear  reveUlt, 
rousing  the  rangers  from  their  slumber,  and  startling  their  steeds 
at  the  stall.  The  goddess  of  morning  soon  triumphed,  and  un- 
ler  her  soft  blue  light,  men  and  horses  could  be  seen  moving 
about,  until  the  bugle  again  sounded;  this  time  to  "boot  and 
saddle;"  and  the  rangers  began  to  form  in  the  plaza,  and  pre 
pare  for  the  route. 

A  single  wagon  with  its  white  tilt  and  long  team  of  mules, 
already  "  hitched  up,"  stood  near  the  centre  of  the  square.  It 
constituted  the  whole  baggage-train  of  the  corps,  and  served  as 
an  ambulance  for  our  invalids.  Both  baggage  and  sick  had  been 
safely  stowed,  and  the  vehicle  was  ready  for  the  road.  The 
bugler,  already  in  his  saddle,  awaited  my  orders  to  sound  the 
"forward." 

I  had  climbed  to  my  favorite  'smoking-room,"  the  azotea. 
Perhaps  it  was  the  last  time  I  should  ever  set  foot  on  those 
painted  tiles.  My  eyes  wandered  over  the  plaza,  though  I  little 
heeded  what  was  passing  there.  Only  the  salient  points  of  the 
picture  were  noted  by  me — steeds  under  saddle  and  bridle;  men 
buckling  on  folded  blankets,  holsters,  and  valises  ;  a  few  already 
in  the  saddle;  a  few  more  standing  by  the  heads  of  their  horses; 
and  still  another  few  grouped  around  the  door  of  the  pulperia, 
having  a  last  drink  of  mezcal  or  Catalan  with  their  swarthy 
Mexican  acquaintances.  Here  and  there,  in  front  of  some  adobe 
hut,  might  be  observed  a  more  tender  leave-taking.  The  ranger 


'288  THE    WAE-TKAIL. 

fully  equipped — with  arms,  haversack,  and  canteen — leaning 
against  the  heavy  bars  of  a  window,  with  face  turned  inward,  as 
though  he  was  talking  to  some  prisoner  through  the  grating  of 
a  jail.  But  he  is  himself  the  real  captive,  ensnared  during  his 
short  sojourn,  and  still  held  in  chains  bj  the  -live-skinned  poblana, 
whose  dark  liquid  eyes  may  be  seen  on  the  other  side  of  the  reja, 
flashing  with  love,  or  melting  with  sad  tenderness  at  the  prospect 
of  parting. 

Others,  again,  are  bidding  their  adios  in  retired  corners,  ander 
the  shadow  of  the  church  walls,  or  in  groups  of  four  or  iive  more 
openly  in  the  p-laza,  itself.  Early  as  is  the  hour,  the  people 
have  all  arisen;  and  not  a  few  of  the  brown,  rebosa-clad  short- 
skirted  wenches  are  already  on  their  way,  jarro  on  head,  to  the 
fountain.  There  the  pitchers  are  filled,  and  lifted  on  their  heads 
— perhaps  for  the  last  time — by  the  rangers,  who  perform  the 
office  with  all  the  rude  grace  in  their  power.  Then  follows  a 
profusion  of  smiles  and  bows,  and  a  dialogue,  on  the  ranger's 
part  extending  to  the  whole  of  his  Spanish,  which  consists  of  the 
phrase  : 

"  Mucho  bueno,  muchacha  !" 

The  usual  reply,  accompanied  with  a  display  of  pretty  white 
teeth,  is  : 

"Mucho  bueno,  cavallero!  mucho  bueno  Tejano!"  given  in 
like  ungrammatical  phrase,  in  order  that  it  may  be  intelligible 
to  the  person  to  whom  it  is  addressed. 

I  have  often  been  suprised  at  thesuccess-of  my  great  uncouth 
followers  with  these  petite  dark-eyed  damsels  of  Anahuac  ;  >utt 
indeed,  many  of  the  rangers  are  not  bad-looking  men.  On  the 
contrary,  there  are  handsome  fellows  among  them,  if  they  -vere 
only  put  into  clean  shirts,  and  a  little  more  closely  shaven.  Bui 
woman's  eye  is  keen-sighted  in  such  matters  :  she  easily  pene 
trates  through  the  disguise  of  dust,  the  bronze  of  sun-tan,  and 
the  shaggy  mask  of  an  ill-kept  beard  ;  and  no  eye  is  quicker  in 
this  respect  that  than  of  the  fair  Mexicana.  In  the  big,  ap- 


THE   ROUTE.  289 

parently  rude,  individual,  called  a  "  ranger,"  she  beholds  a  type 
of  strength  and  courage,  a  heart  that  can  cherish,  and  an  arm 
that  can  protect  her.  These  are  qualities  that,  from  all  time, 
have  won  the  love  of  woman. 

It  is  evident  they  are  not  all  friends  whom  we  are  leaving  be 
hind  us.  Hostile  faces  may  be  observed,  many  of  them  peering 
from  open  doors  or  windows.  Here  and  there  a  sulky  lepero 
swings  about  in  his  blanket,  or  cowers  by  the  corner  of  the 
street,  scowling  savagely  from  under  his  broad-brimmed  hat. 
Most  of  this  class  are  absent — as  long  since  ascertained— with 
the  guerrilla;  but  a  few  still  remain  to  give  shadow  to  the  pic 
ture.  They  regard  the  approaches  towards  the  women  with  ill- 
concealed  anger;  and  would  reseat  this  politeness  if  they  dared. 
They  confine  the  exhibition  of  their  spite  to  the  dastardly 
meanness  of  ill-treating  the  women  themselves,  whenever  they 
have  an  opportunity.  No  later  than  the  night  before,  one  of 
ihem  was  detected  in  beating  his  sweetheart  or  mistress  for  the 
jrime,  as  was  alleged,  of  dallying  too  long  in  the  company  of  a 
Tejano.  The  Tejano,  in  this  case,  took  the  law  into  his  own 
hands,  and  severely  chastised  the  jealous  pelado. 

Even  in  the  hurried  glance  which  I  gave  to  these  scenes  of 
leave  taking,  I  could  not  help  noticing  an  expression  on  the  faces 
of  some  of  the  young  girls  that  had  in  it  a  strange  significance. 
It  was  something  more  than  sadness  ;  it  was  more  like  the  un 
easy  look  that  betokens  apprehension. 

Perhaps  the  state  of  mind  I  was  in  magnified  my  perceptions. 
At  that  moment,  a  struggle  was  passing  in  my  own  breast,  and 
a  feeling  of  irresolution  lay  heavy  upon  me.  All  night  long  had 
my  mind  dwelt  upon  the  same  thought — the  danger  that  menaced 
my  betrothed — all  night  long  I  had  been  occupied  with  plans  to 
avert  it,  but  no  reasonable  scheme  had  I  succeeded  in  devising. 

It  is  true  the  danger  was  only  hypothetical  and  undefined, 
but  it  was  just  this  supposititious  indefiniteness  that  caused  the 
difficulty  in  providing  against  it.  Had  it  assumed  a  tangible 

IS 


290  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

shape,  I  might  more  easily  have  adopted  some  means  of  aroid- 
ing  it;  but  no — it  remained  a  shadow,  and  against  a  shadow  I 
knew  not  what  precautions  to  take.  When  morning  broke,  I 
was  still  struggling  under  the  same  nervous  indecision. 

Problematical  as  was  the  peril  my  fancy  had  formed,  there 
were  moments  when  it  appalled  me — moments  when  my  mind 
labored  under  a  painful  presentiment,  and  I  could  not  cast  the 
load  by  any  act  of  volition.  With  all  my  philosophy,  I  could 
not  fortify  myself  against  the  belief  that  *'  coming  events  cast 
their  shadows  before ;"  and,  spite  of  myself,  I  kept  repeating  in 
thought  the  weird  prophetic  words.  Upon  my  soul,  certainly, 
there  were  shadows,  and  dark  ones  ;  if  the  events  should  have 
any  correspondence  with  them,  then  there  was  misery  before  me. 

I  have  termed  the  dang-er  in  which  Isolina  was  placed  indefi 
nite:  it  was  not  so  indefinite,  after  a  slight  analysis;  it  was  directly 
traceable  to  the  presence  of  Rafael  Ijurra.  True,  there  were 
other  sources  of  apprehension;  other  perils  surrounded  her, 
arising  from  the  disturbed  state  of  the  country — but  these  did 
not  point  at  her  in  particular.  That  frontier  province  had  been 
for  years  in  a  distracted  condition — by  revolution  or  Indian 
invasion— and  war  was  no  new  thing  to  its  people.  In  the  midst 
of  strife  had  the  fair  flower  grown  to  perfect  blooming,  without 
having  been  either  crushed  or  trodden  upon.  Isolina  de  Yargas 
was  a  woman  of  sufficient  spirit  to  resist  insult  and  cast  off 
intrusion.  I  had  just  had  proof  of  this.  Under  ordinary  cir 
cumstances,  I  had  no  fear  that  she  would  be  unequal  to  the 
emergency;  but  the  circumstances  in  which  she  now  stood  were 
•not  of  that  character;  they  were  extraordinary  and  to  an  extreme 
degree.  In  addition  to  the  light  thrown  upon  Ijnrra's  designs 
by  his  own  menacing  confession,  I  knew  other  particulars  of 
him.  Holingsworth  had  helped  me  to  a  knowledge  of  this  bad 
man,  and  that  knowledge  it  was  that  rendered  me  apprehensive. 
From  a  nature  so  base  and  brutal,  it  was  natural  I  should  dread 
the  worst. 


THE   ROUTE.  291 

But  what  couid  I  do  ?  I  might  have  thrown  up  my  commis 
sion,  and  remained  upon  the  spot,  but  that  would  have  been 
worse  than  idle.  I  could  not  have  protected  myself,  much  less 
another.  The  rangers  once  gone  from  the  place,  my  life  would 
not  have  been  safe  there  for  a  single  hour. 

Only  one  plan  suggested  itself  that  had  the  semblance  of 
feasibility — to  seek  another  interview  with  Isolina — her  father 
as  well — ang!  adjure  them  to  remove  at  once  from  the  scene  of 
danger.  They  might  go  to  San  Antonio  de  Bexar,  where,  far 
removed  from  hostile  ground,  they  could  live  in  safety  till  the 
war  should  be  ended. 

It  was  only  at  the  last  moment  that  this  happy  idea  came  into 
my  head,  and  I  reviled  myself  that  I  had  not  conceived  it  sooner. 
The  chief  difficulty  would  lie  in  the  opposition  of  Don  Ramon. 
I  knew  that  he  was  aware  of  the  friendship  that  existed  between 
his  daughter  and  myself,  and  furthermore,  that  he  had  opposed 
no  obstacle  to  it ;  but  how  could  I  convince  him  of  the  necessity 
for  so  sudden  an  expatriation  as  the  one  I  was  about  to  propose? 
how  should  I  persuade  him  of  the  peril  I  myself  dreaded  ?  and 
from  such  a  source  ! 

Another  difficulty  I  might  encounter — in  the  proud  spirit  of 
Isolina  herself.  Much  did  I  fear  she  would  never  consent  to  be 
thus  driven  from  her  home,  and  by  such  a  poltroon  as  she  knew 
her  cousin  to  be.  She  had  cowed  and  conquered  him  but  the  day 
before;  she  feared  him  not;  she  would  not  be  likely  to  partake  of 
my  painful  apprehensions.  My  counsel  might  be  disregarded, 
my  motives  misconstrued. 

The  time,  too,  was  unfavorable.  We  must  be  on  the  march 
by  sunrise — so  ran  our  orders — and  already  the  day  was  break 
ing.  I  cared  not  much  for  this:  I  could  easily  have  have  over 
taken  my  troop ;  but  it  was  a  delicate  matter — that  could  only 
by  excused  by  a  certain  knowledge  of  danger — to  awake  a  gen 
tleman's  family  at  such  an  hour,  even  for  the  purpose  of  warning 
them.  Moreover,  should  my  advice  prove  fruitless,  I  reflected 


292  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

that  my  visit — which  could  not  be  made  in  secret — might  aid  in 
bringing  about  the  very  danger  I  apprehended.  A  circumstance 
BO  extraordinary  could  not  fail  to  be  noticed  by  all. 

It  was  thus  that  I  was  held  in  irresolution,  while  my  troop 
was  forming  for  the  march. 

At  the  last  moment,  thanks  to  the  thoughtful  Holingsworth, 
a  compromise  offered.  He  suggested  that  I  should  send  my 
advice  in  writing.  In  that  I  could  be  as  explicit  as  I  pleased, 
and  bring  before  my  protegees  all  the  arguments  I  might  be  able 
to  adduce — perhaps  more  successfully  than  if  urged  by  a  personal 
appeal. 

My  comrade's  suggestion  was  adopted;  and  in  haste,  but  with 
a  fervor  resulting  from  my  fears,  I  penned  the  admonitory 
epistle.  A  trusty  messenger  was  found  in  one  of  the  Ayankieados, 
who  promised,  as  soon  as  the  family  should  be  stirring,  to  carry 
the  letter  to  its  destination. 

With  my  heart  somewhat  relieved  of  its  load,  though  still  far 
from  light,  I  gave  the  order  to  march.  The  bugle  rang  clear 
and  loud,  and  its  cheerful  notes,  as  I  sprang  into  the  saddle, 
combined  with  the  inspiration  borrowed  from  my  buoyant  steed, 
produced  a  soothing  effect  upon  my  spirit. 


CHAPTER    L  1 1 1 . 

CAMP    GOSSIP. 

IT  was  but  a  short-lived  light — a  passing  gleam — and  soon 
again  fell  the  shadow,  dark  as  ever.  Strive  as  I  might,  I  could 
not  cast  the  load  that  weighed  upon  my  bosom;  reason  as  I  would, 
I  could  not  account  for  its  heaviness. 

It  was  natural  that  a  parting  like  ours  should  produce  pain. 


CAMP    GOS6IP.  293 

mid  misgivings  as  to  the  future.  My  life  was  to  be  staked  m 
the  lottery  of  war  ;  I  might  fall  ou  the  field  of  fight;  I  might 
perish  by  camp-pestilence — a  foe  that  in  the  campaign  kills  more 
soldiers  than  sword  or  shot — the  many  perils  of  flood  and  field 
were  before  me,  and  it  was  natural  I  should  regard  the  future 
with  a  degree  of  doubtfuless.  But  it  was  not  the  contemplation  of 
all  these  dangers  that  filled  me  with  such  a  terrible  foreboding. 
Strange  to  say,  I  had  a  forecast  that  I  should  survive  them.  It 
was  almost  a  conviction,  yet  it  failed  to  comfort  me.  It  compre 
hended  not  the  safety  of  Isolina.  No — but  the  contrary.  Along 
with  it  came  the  presentiment,  that  we  should  never  meet  again. 

Once  or  twice,  as  this  dread  feeling  became  most  acute,  I 
reined  up  my  horse,  half  resolved  to  gallop  back  ;  but  again  the 
wild  idea  passed  from  from  me,  and  I  continued  irresolutely  on. 

Something  of  prudence,  too,  now  restrained  me  from  returning: 
it  would  no  longer  have  been  safe  to  go  back  to  the  rancheria. 
As  we  issued  from  the  plaza,  we  could  hear  distant  jeering,  and 
cries  of  "  Mueran  los  Tejanos  /"  It  was  with  difficulty  I  could 
restrain  the  rangers  from  turning  to  take  vengeance.  One,  the 
worst  for  mezcal,  had  loitered  behind,  under  the  influence  of  the 
drink,  fancying  himself  secure.  Him  the  pdados  had  "  bonneted," 
and  otherwise  maltreated.  They  would  have  murdered  him 
outright,  but  that  some  of  them,  mere  prudent  than  their  fellows, 
had  counselled  the  mob  to  let  him  go — alleging  that  the  Tejano? 
were  yet  "  too  near,  and  might  come  back." 

Again  I  had  strife  with  my  men;  they  would  have  returned 
and  fired  the  place,  had  I  permitted  them.  Fortunately,  he  who 
had  been  ill  treated  was  a  good-for-nothing  fellow — scarcely  worth 
the  sympathy  of  his  comrades — and  I  was  well  satisfied  at  his 
having  received  a  lesson.  It  might  be  useful,  and  was  much 
needed,  for  "  straggling  "  was  one  of  the  ranger-crimes  mo^t  dif 
ficult  to  cure. 

Along  the  road,  we  saw  signs  of  a  guerrilla.  Shots  were  fired 
at  us  from  a  hill;  but  a  party  sent  to  the  place  encountered  m 


THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

one.  Horse-tracks  were  observed,  and  once  a  brace  of  mounted 
men  were  seen  galloping  away  over  a  distant  slope.  It  might 
be  the  band  of  Ijurra,  and  doubtless  it  was  so;  but  we  fancied 
at  the  time  that  Canal es  himself  was  near;  and  as  an  encounter 
with  his  large  and  well-organized  force  would  be  a  very  different 
affair  from  a  skirmish  with  the  other,  we  felt  the  necessity  of 
advancing  with  caution. 

The  prospect  of  a  "  fight "  with  that  noted  partisan  created 
quite  an  excitement  in  the  ranks.  To  have  captured  Canales — 
the  "  Chapparal  Fox,"  as  the  Texans  termed  him — or  to  have 
made  conquest  of  his  band,  would  have  been  esteemed  a  feat  of 
grand  consequence — only  inferior  in  importance  to  a  pitched 
battle,  or  the  taking  of  "  Game-leg"  (Santa  Anna)  himself. 

I  confess  that  to  me  the  idea  of  measuring  strength  with  the 
famed  guerrillero  was  at  that  moment  rife  with  charms;  and  the 
excitement  derived  from  the  hope  of  meeting  him,  for  a  while 
abstracted  my  mind  from  its  painful  bodings. 

But  we  reached  the  town  without  seeing  aught  of  the  Chap 
paral  Fox.  It  was  not  likely  that  he  was  on  that  road;  or  if  so, 
he  took  care  not  to  show  himself.  Canales  fought  not  for  glory 
alone,  and  the  rangers  were  not  the  foes  he  cared  to  encounter. 
Rich  baggage-trains  were  the  game  he  was  used  to  hunt,  and 
our  solitary  "company-wagon,"  filled  with  frying-pans,  camp- 
kettles,  sick  soldiers,  and  tattered  blankets — half  alive  with  those 
charming  little  insects  of  the  genera  pulez  and  p&diculus — had  no 
attractions  for  the  gallant  guerrillero. 

On  reaching  the  town,  we  were  surprised  to  find  that  the 
division  had  not  yet  moved.  It  was  to  have  marched  on  that 
morning,  but  a  countermand  had  arrived  from  head-quarters, 
delaying  the  movement  for  some  days — perhaps  a  week. 

This  was  rare  news  to  me;  and  as  soon  as  I  heard  it,  my  mind 
became  occupied  with  projects  and  anticipations  of  a  pleasant 
nature.  I  had  hoped  that  we  would  be  sent  back  to  the  rancheria, 
but  alas  !  no — our  orders  were  to  remain  with  the  division 


CAMP   GOSSIP.  295 

As  every  available  building  was  occupied  by  troops,  the  ran* 
gers,  as  usual,  were  treated  as  "  outsiders/'  and  compelled  to  take 
to  the  grass.  Half  a  mile  from  the  town,  a  spot  was  shown  us 
for  our  camp.  It  was  on  the  banks  of  a  pretty  rivulet  j.and 
there,  having  picketed  our  steeds,  stretched  our  canvas  to  the  sun, 
and  washed  the  dust  from  our  faces,  we  made  ourselves  at  home. 

I  did  not  remain  long  by  the  camp.  As  soon  as  our  tents 
were  fairly  pitched,  I  left  them,  and  walked  back  into  the  town 
— partly  to  get  more  definite  information  as  to  the  future  move 
ments  of  the  army,  and  partly  with  the  design  of  indulging  a 
little  in  the  social  feeling.  I  had  some  old  comrades  among  the 
different  regiments  of  the  division;  and  after  such  a  long  spell  of 
rustication,  I  was  not  indisposed  to  refresh  my  spirit  by  the  re 
newal  of  former  fellowships. 

At  head-quarters,  I  learned  definitely  that  we  should  not 
march  for  a  week  at  the  least.  So  far  good  ;  and  after  hearing 
this,  I  proceeded  to  the  fonda,  the  rendezvous  of  all  the  jovial 
spirits  of  the  army.  Here  I  encountered  the  friends  of  whom  I 
was  in  search;  and  for  a  short  while  I  found  respite  from  the 
thoughts  that  had  been  harrowing  me. 

I  soon  gathered  the  current  "  camp  gossip,"  and  learned  who 
were  the  "  newspaper  heroes  "  of  the  hour  over  many  of  whose 
aames  my  friends  and  I  could  not  restrain  either  our  satire  or 
laughter.  It  appeared  that  the  men  of  deeds  were  scarcely 
known  beyond  the  limits  of  the  army  itself,  while  others,  who  in 
the  field  of  battle  had  actually  played  the  poltroon,  had  at  home 
become  household  words  in  the  mouths  of  the  people.  One 
general,  whom  I  myself  saw  hiding  in  a  ditch,  during  the  rage 
of  battle  was  the  theme  of  speech,  sentiment,  and  song.  The 
newspapers  were  filled  with  praises,  and  the  windows  with  pic 
tures  of  a  "  gallant  dragoon  officer,"  who  had  somehow  obtained 
the  credit  of  capturing  a  battery.  My  rangers  cried  "  Bah  !" 
when  I  told  them  this.  They  themselves  were  the  men  who 
had  first  galloped  over  those  Mexican  guns  I 


296  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

"  Keeping  an  editor  in  pay"  was  a  standing  sarcasm  appliea* 
ble  to  more  than  one  of  oar  generals  ;  and  the  "  army  corres 
pondent  "  taking  advantage  of  th'is  pruriency  for  fame,  lived  well, 
and  swaggered  in  proportional  importance. 

Ah,  glory  !  what  sacrifices  men  make  for  thee  npon  the 
shrine  of  conscience  !  For  my  part,  I  do  not  think  I  could  feel 
happy  under  the  credit  of  a  feat  I  had  not  performed.  Surely 
the  consciousness  of  having  done  a  deed  is  of  itself  a  sufficient 
reward.  He  is  but  an  unhappy  hero  who  is  not  a  hero  to  him 
self  1 

Pleasanter  gossip  I  heard  about  the  relations  existing 
between  our  troops  and  the  people  of  the  town.  Many  of  the 
inhabitants  bad  grown  quite  Ayankieado,  in  consequence  of  our 
excellent  behavior  towards  them.  Our  conduct  was  com 
pared  with  that  -which  they  had  lately  experienced  at  the  hands 
of  their  own  army.  The  latter  is  in  the  habit  of  seizing  pro 
perty  at  pleasure,  on  pretence  of  using  it  for  the  defence  of  the 
state.  We,  on  the  contrary,  pay  for  everything — round  prices 
too — in  bright  American  dollars.  The  ricos  and  merchants 
prefer  this  system,  and  would  have  no  objections  to  making  it 
permanent.  Outrages  are  few  on  the  part  of  our  soldiery,  and 
severely  punished  by  the  general.  Our  enemies  contrast  the 
modest  bearing  of  the  American  soldier  with  the  conceited  strut 
and  insolent  swagger  of  their  own  gold  bedizened  militaries  who 
are  wont  on  all  occasions  to  "  take  the  wall,"  of  them.  It  is 
only  outside  the  lines,  between  stragglers  and  leperos,  that  the 
retaliation  system  is  carried  on  so  fiercely.  Within  the  walls, 
everything  is  order,  with  a  mildness  too  rare  under  martial  law. 
Private  property  is  strictly  regarded,  and  private  dwellings  are 
not  occupied  by  our  troops.  Even  the  officers  are  not  billeted 
in  private  houses  ;  and  many  of  them  have  to  make  shift  in 
rather  uncomfortable  quarters,  while  most  of  the  soldiers  live 
under  canvas.  This  state  of  things  is  scarcely  satisfactory  to 
the  troops  ;  and  some  grumbling  is  heard.  There  is  no  com- 


CAMP    GOSSIP.  297 

plaint,  however  from  the  Mexicans,  who  seem  rather  astonished 
at  so  much  forbearance  on  the  part  of  their  conquerors. 

I  doubt  whether  in  the  whole  history  of  war  tan  be  found  a 
conquest  characterized  by  equal  mildness  and  humanity,  as  is  the 
'•  Second  Conquest  of  Mexico." 

It  is  principally  for  this  reason  the  people  have  grown  so  well 
affected  towards  us.  But  there  is  another,  perhaps,  not  less 
potent.  From  the  extensive  operations  we  are  now  about  to 
undertake,  they  see  that  we  mean  war  in  earnest  ;  and  the 
belief  has  become  general,  that  a  large  "  annexation"  will  follow ; 
that  perhaps  the  whole  valley  of  the  Rio  Grande  will  become 
American  territory.  It  is  but  human  nature  in  them  to  do 
homage  to  the  rising  sun. 

The  ricos  are  better  disposed  towards  us  than  the  common 
people  ;  but  this  enigma  is  easily  explained.  The  latter  are 
more  patriotic — that  is,  more  ready  to  fight  for  native  tyranny 
than  accept  freedom  from  a  foreign  hand.  'Tis  so  in  all  lands. 
In  the  event  of  a  war  with  England,  the  black  slave  of  Carolina 
would  range  himself  by  the  side  of  his  master,  and  prove  the 
bitterest  foe  to  the  enemies  not  of  his  freedom  but  of  his  coun 
try. 

The  familias  prindpales  of  Mexico  have  good  reasons  for 
being  friendly  to  us.  They  have  a  stake  to  lose,  which,  under 
their  own  government  has  been  ill  guarded  for  them.  No  won 
der  they  should  desire  to  come  under  the  broad  protecting  wings 
of  the  northern  eagle.  *  *  * 

I  found  that  another  species  of  "  annexation"  had  been  going 
on  during  my  absence.  One  of  our  officers  had  become  annexed 
to  a  wealthy  senorita  of  the  place,  and  the  marriage  ceremony 
had  been  performed  with  great  pomp  and  splendor.  Another 
was  talked  of  as  being  fiance  ;  and  it  was  expected  that  the 
example  would  find  numerous  imitators. 

I  need  not  say  that  I  was  much  interested  by  ;hese  noredades, 
and  I  returned  with  lighter  heart  to  the  camp. 

13* 


298  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 


CHAPTER    LIT. 

\ 

THE    RUINED    RANCHO. 

THE  pleasant  excitement  caused  by  my  visit  to  my  old  com 
rades  was  soon  over  ;  and  having  nothing  to  do  but  lounge 
about  my  tent,  I  became  again  the  victim  of  the  same  painful 
bodings.  I  could  not  shake  them  off. 

Subtle  and  mysterious  is  the  spirit-world  within  us,  certainly 
does  it  seem  to  have  prescience  of  the  future.  Is  it  an  electric 
chain  connecting  what  is  with  what  is  to  be  ?  Or  is  it  the  se 
cond  sight  of  instinct  I  Certainly  there  are  times  when  something 
within  whispers  a  warning,  as  in  the  physical  world,  God's  wild 
creatures  are  warned  from  without  of  the  earthquake  and 
the  storm.  How  often  do  we  experience  the  realizations  of  por 
tentous  dreams  ?  Why  should  not  the  waking  soul  have  also 
its  moments  of  clairvoyance  ? 

As  I  lay  stretched  upon  my  leathern  catre,  I  gave  way  to 
such  reflections.  I  soon  succeeded  in  reasoning  myself  into  a 
full  belief  in  foreknowledge  ;  and  my  apprehensions  were  pro 
portionately  strengthened.  But  I  had  conceived  a  design,  and 
the  prospect  of  putting  it  in  execution  somewhat  relieved  mo 
from  the  heaviness  I  had  hitherto  felt. 

My  new  project  was  to  take  a  score  of  my  best  men,  to  ride 
back  the  road  we  had  come,  place  the  party  in  ambush  near  the 
hacienda,  while  I  alone  should  enter  the  house,  and  further  urge 
the  counsels  I  had  committed  to  writing.  If  I  should  find  taat 
these  had  been  already  followed,  so  much  the  better — I  should 
be  assured,  and  return  content ;  but  I  felt  almost  certain  that 
Don  Ramon  had  rejected  them.  At  all  events  I  was  determined 


THE   RUINED    EANCHO.  299 

.  to  know  the  truth — determined,  moreover,  to  gratify  my  longing 
for  one  more,  interview  with  my  beloved. 

I  had  wa-Tied  the  men  and  fixed  the  hour — as  soon  as  it  was 
dark  enough  to  conceal  our  departure  from  the  camp. 

I  had  two  reasons  for  not  starting  earlier  ;  first,  because  I  did 
not  wish  this  private  scouting  to  be  known  at  head-quarters.  It  is 
true  that  in  such  matters  we  rangers  had  the  advantage  of  regu 
lar  troops.  Though  belonging  to  the  division,  our  duty  was 
usually  detached  from  it,  and  we  were  rarely  "  missed  "  when 
absent.  There  was  thus  a  sort  of  pleasant  independence  in  my 
command,  which  I  for  one  fully  appreciated.  For  all  that,  I  did 
not  desire  the  whole  world  to  know  of  an  expedition  like  the 
one  projected. 

My  second  motive  for  going  in  the  night  was  simple  prudence 
I  dared  not  take  the  whole  of  my  command  along  with  me,  with 
out  permission  from  above.  The  absence  of  the  corps  without 
leave  would  certainly  be  noticed,  even  were  it  but  for  a  few  hours  ; 
and  with  the  smaller  party  I  intended  to  take,  caution  would  be 
requisite.  Should  we  move  along  the  road  before  it  was  desert 
ed,  some  swift  messenger  might  carry  the  tidings  en  amnt,  and 
get  us  into  trouble. 

I  designed  to  start  at  the  earliest  hour  of  darkness,  so  that  I 
might  not  alarm  the  hacienda  by  a  midnight  visit.  An  hour 
and  a  half  of  constant  riding  would  bring  me  to  its  gate.  *  * 

At  the  last  moment  of  twilight  we  were  inour  saddles  ;  and 
rode  silently  into  the  chaparral  that  skirted  our  camp.  After 
filing  for  some  distance  through  a  narrow  path,  we  debouched 
upon  the  up-river  road,  the  same  that  conducted  to  the  rancheria. 

The  trappers,  Rube  and  Garey,  acting  as  scouts,  went  for 
ward  in  the  advance.  They  were  on  foot — their  horses  remain 
ing  behind  with  the  party. 

It  was  a  mode  of  march  I  had  adopted  after  some  experience 
in  bush-fighting.  The  scouts  of  a  marching  force  should  always 
go  on  foot,  whether  th.e  main  body  be  dragoons  or  infantry.  In 


800  THE   WAK-TKAIL. 

this  manner  they  can  take  advantage  of  the  ground  ;  and  bj 
keeping  under  cover  of  the  timber,  are  enabled  to  reconnoitre 
the  angles  of  the  road  in  a  much  safer  way  than  when  on  horse 
back.  The  great  danger  to  a  scout — and  consequently  to  the 
party  for  which  he  is  acting— lies  in  his  being  first  seen,  and  the 
risk  is  greater  when  he  is  mounted.  The  horse  cannot  be  drawn 
under  cover  without  an  effort  ;  and  the  sound  of  the  hoof  may 
be  heard  ;  whereas,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  a  man  on  foot — that 
is,  such  a  man  as  either  Rube  Rawlings  or  Bill  Garey — will  dis 
cover  the  enemy  before  he  is  himself  seen,  or  any  ambuscade  can 
be  attempted.  Of  course,  the  scout  should  never  advance  beyond 
the  possibility  of  retreating  upon  the  party  he  is  guiding. 

With  full  confidence  in  the  men  who  had  been  sent  forward, 
we  rode  on,  timing  our  pace,  so  as  not  to  overtake  them.  Now 
and  then  we  caught  a  glimpse  of  them,  at  the  further  end  of  a 
long  stretch,  skirting  the  bushes,  or  stooping  behind  the  cover, 
to  reconnoitre  the  road  in  advance.  To  our  chagrin,  it  was  clear 
moonlight,  and  we  could  distinguish  their  forms  at  a  great  dis 
tance.  We  should  much  have  preferred  a  darker  night. 

The  road  we  were  travelling  upon  was  entirely  without  habi 
tations  ;  most  of  it  ran  through  light  chaparral  forest,  with 
neither  clearing  nor  homestead.  One  solitary  rancho  stood  at 
about  equal  distances  between  the  town  and  the  rancheria  ;  and 
was  known  among  the  rangers  by  the  familiar  sobriquet  of  the 
"  half-way-house."  It  was  a  poor  hovel  of  yucca,  with  a  small 
patch  around  that  had  once  grown  yams,  chile-popper,  and  a 
stock  of  maize  for  whoever  had  inhabited  it  ;  but  its  occupants 
had  long  since  disappeared — the  prowling  soldier-robber  from  the 
camp  had  paid  it  many  a  visit,  and  its  household  gods  lay  bro 
ken  upon  the  hearth.  The  tortilla  stone  and  comal,  red  earthen 
ollas,  calabash  cups,  bedsteads  and  benches  of  the  cana  vaquer>* 
a  whirligig  spindle,  an  old  stringless  jarana  or  bandolon,  with 
other  like  effects,  lay  in  fragments  upon  the  floor.  Mingling 
with  these  were  cheap  colored  wood-prints,  of  saints  and  Saviour, 


THE    RUINED    KANCHO.  301 

that  had  been  dragged  from  the  walls,  and  with  the  torn  leaves 
of  an  old  Spanish  misa,  trampled  in  dust  and  dishonor. 

I  paint  this  tableau  of  ruin  not  that  it  was  in  any  way  con 
nected  with  the  events  of  our  narrative,  but  that  it  had  strangely 
affected  me.  On  the  day  before,  as  we  rode  past,  I  had  halted 
a  moment  by  the  little  rancho,  and  contemplated  the  scene  with 
a  feeling  of  melancholy  that  amounted  almost  to  sadness.  Lit 
tle  thought  I  that  a  still  sadder  spectacle  awaited  me  in  that 
same  spot. 

We  had  approached  within  less  than  half  a  mile  of  the  rancho, 
when  a  strange  medley  of  sounds  reached  our  ears.  Human 
voices  they  were,  and  borne  upon  the  light  breeze  we  could  dis 
tinguish  them  to  be  the  voices  of  women.  Occasionally  harsher 
tones  were  heard  mingling  in  the  murmur,  but  most  of  them  had 
the  soft  rich  intonation  that  distinguishes  the  female  voice. 

We  all  drew  bridle  and  listened.  The  sounds  continued  in  the 
same  confused  chorus,  but  there  was  neither  song  nor  joy  in  the 
accents.  On  the  contrary,  the  night-wind  carried  upon  its  wings 
the  voices  of  "  lamentation  and  wailing." 

"  There  are  women  in  trouble,"  remarked  one  of  my  followers 
in  a  loud  sugestive  tone. 

The  remark  caused  all  of  us  simultaneously  to  ply  the  spur, 
and  ride  forward. 

Before  we  had  galloped  a  dozen  lengths,  a  man  appeared  com 
ing  from  the  opposite  direction,  and  advancing  rapidly  up  the 
middle  of  the  road.  We  saw  it  was  the  scout  Grarey  ;  and,  once 
more  reining  up,  we  awaited  his  approach. 

I  was  at  the  head  of  the  little  troop,  and  as  the  trapper  drew 
near,  I  could  see  his  face  full  under  the  light  of  the  moon.  Itx 
expression  was  ominous  of  evil  tidings. 

He  spoke  not  until  he  had  laid  his  hand  upon  the  pommel  of 
my  saddle,  and  then  only  in  a  subdued  and  saddened  tone.  His 
words  were  : 

41  Thar's  ugly  news,  capt'n." 


802  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

0  that  terrible  foreboding  ! 

"  News  ? — ill  news  !''  I  stammered  out' ;  "  what,  for  Heaven'a 
sake  ? — speak,  Garey  !" 

"  They've  been  playiu'  the  devil  at  the  rancherie.  Them  ruf 
fians  hez  behaved  wuss  than  Injuns  would  a  done.  But  come 
forrard,  capt'n,  and  see  for  yorself.  The  weemeu  are  close  by 
hyar  at  the  shanty.  Rube's  a  tryin'  to  pacify  them,  poor  crit 
ters." 

0  that  terrible  foreboding  ! 

1  made  no  response  to  Garey's  last  speech,  but  rode  forward 
as  fast  as  my  horse  could  carry  me. 

A  brace  of  minutes  brought  me  up  to  the  rancho  and  there 
I  beheld  a  spectacle  that  caused  the  blood  to  curdle  in  my 
veins. 


CHAPTER  LV. 

A    CRUEL     PROSCRIPTION. 

THE  open  space  in  front  of  the  hovel  was  occupied  by  a  group 
of  women,  most  of  them  young  girls.  There  were  six  or  seven  ; 
I  did  not  count  them.  There  were  two  or  three  men,  Mexicans, 
mixed  up  in  the  group.  Rube  was  in  their  midst,  endeavor 
ing  in  their  broken  Spanish,  to  give  them  consolation,  and  assur 
ance  of  safety.  Poor  victims  I  they  needed  both. 

The  women  were  half-naked — some  of  them  simply  en  chemise. 
Their  long  black  hair  fell  loosely  over  their  shoulders,  looking 
tossed  wet,  and  dra.ggly.  There  was  blood  upon  it  ;  there  was 
blood  upon  their  cheeks  in  seams  half-dried,  but  still  dropping. 
The  same  horrid  red  mottled  their  necks  and  bosoms,  and  there 


A  CRUEL   PROSCRIPTION.  303 

was  blood  upon  the  hands  that  had  wiped  them.  A  red  brown 
blotch  appeared  upon  the  foreheads  of  all.  In  the  moonlight,  it- 
looked  as  if  the  skin  had  been  burnt.  I  rode  closer  to  one  and 
examined  it :  it  was  a  brand — the  fire-stamp  of  red-hot  iron.  The 
skin  around  was  scarlet,  but  in  the  midst  of  this  halo  of  inflam 
mation  I  could  distinguish,  from  their  darker  hue,  the  outlines  of 
the  two  letters  I  wore  upon  my  button — the  well  known  4|  U.  S/ 

She  who  was  nearest  me  raised  her  hands,  and  tossing  back 
from  her  cheeks  the  thick  clustered  hair,  cried  out : 

"  Miralo,  senor  /" 

0  Heaven  !  my  flesh  crept  as  I  looked  upon  the  source  of 
that   crimson  hemorrhage.      Her  ears  had  been  clipped  off — 
they  were  wanting  I 

1  needed  no  farther  uplifting  of  their  hair  to  satisfy  me  that 
the  others  had  been  served  in  like  manner  ;  the  red  stream  still 
trickling  adown  their  necks  was  evidence  enough.   The  men,  too 
had  been  similarly  abused.      Two  of  them  had  suffered  still  fur 
ther  mutilation.      They  held  held  up  their  right  arms  before  my 
face — not  their  hands.      There  were  no  hands.     I  saw  the  hang 
ing    sleeve    and    the   blood   steeped   bandage   on   the   stump. 
Their   hands   had   been   chopped  off  at   the  wrists.      Horrid 
•sight  I 

Both  men  and  women  gathered  around  me,  clasping  my 
knees,  and  uttering  prayers  and  entreaties.  No  doubt  most  of 
them  were  known  to  me  by  sight  ;  but  their  features  were  now 
unrecognizable.  They  had  been  the  friends  and  sweethearts  of  the 
corps  and  my  followers  were  already  addressing  them  by  name. 
The  lovers  of  one  or  two  were  present,  and  embraced  them. 

One  appeared  more  richly  costumed  than  the  rest,  and  upon 
her  my  eye  had  fallen,  as  I  first  rode  up.  I  almost  dreaded  to 
approach  her,  as  she  stood  a  little  apart ;  but  no — it  could  not 
be — she  was  not  tall  enough  ;  besides  the  ruffians  would  not 
dare  » 

"  Your  name,  sefiorita  \n 


304:  THE   WAK-TKAIL. 

"  Conchita,  Senor — la  hija  del  alcalde." 

The  tears  burst  from  her  eyes,  mingling  with  blood  as  they 
ran  down  her  cheeks.  Oh,  that  I  too  .ould  have  wept  !  Poor 
Wheatley  !  he  was  not  with  us.  He  had  yet  to  receive  the 
blow  :  it  would  soon  fall. 

My  heart  was  on  fire  ;  so  were  those  of  my  followers.  They 
swore  and  foamed  at  the  mouth.  Some  drew  pistols  and  knives, 
calling  me  to  lead  them  on.  Never  saw  I  men  in  such  a  frenzy 
of  rage  :  the  most  cold-blooded  among  them  seemed  to  have 
suddenly  gone  mad. 

I  could  scarcely  restrain  them,  till  we  should  hear  the  tale. 
We  guessed  it  already  ;  but  we  needed  some  details  to  assist 
us  in  executing  vengeance.  It  was  told  by  many  mouths,  inter 
rupting  or  confirming  one  another.  One  of  the  men  was  more 
coherent — Pedro,  who  used  to  sell  mezcal  to  the  troop.  To  him 
we  listened.  The  substance  of  his  story  was  as  follows  : 

Shortly  after  we  had  left  the  rancheria,  it  was  entered  by  the 
guerrilleros  with  cries  of  "  Viva  Santa  Anna!  Viva  Mexico!" 
and  "  Death  to  the.  Yankees  /"  They  commenced  by  breaking 
open  several  tiendas,  and  drinking  mezcal  and  whatever  they 
could  find.  They  were  joined  by  the  mob  of  the  place—  by  leperos, 
and  others.  Pedro  noticed  the  herredero  (blacksmith)  and  tho 
matador  (cattle-killer)  taking  a  conspicuous  part.  There  were 
many  women  in  the  mob — the  mistresses  of  the  guerrilleros,  and 
others  of  the  town. 

After  drinking  a  while,  they  grew  more  excited.  Then  was 
heard  the  cry  ;  "  Mueran  los  Ayankieados  /"  and  the  crowd  scat 
tering  in  different  directions  entered  the  houses,  shouting, 
Saquenlos  afuera !  matenlos !"  (Drag  them  out!  kill  them  !) 
The  poor  girls  and  all  who  had  been  friendly  to  the  Americanos 
were  dragged  into  the  plaza  amidst  the  oaths  and  execrations 
of  the  guerrilla,  and  hisses  and  hootings  from  the  mob.  They 
were  spat  upon,  called  by  filthy  names,  pelted  with  mud  and 
melon-rinds,  and  then  some  of  the  crowd  cried  out  to  mark  them, 


A    CKTJEL   PROSCRIPTION.  305 

so  that  their  friends  the  Tejanos  should  know  them  agaiL.  The 
women  were  more  furious  than  the  men,  and  excited  the  latter 
to  the  deed,  calling  to  the  blacksmith  : 

"  Traiga  d  fierro !  traiga  el  fierro  /"  (Bring  the  branding- 
iron  1) 

Others  cried  out  :  "  Sacan  las  orejas  /"  (Cut  off  their 
ears  !) 

The  brutal  blacksmith  and  butcher,  both  half  drunk,  obeyed 
the  call — willingly,  Pedro  alleged.  The  former  used  the  brand 
ing-iron,  already  prepared,  while  the  latter  performed  his  bloody 
office  with  the  knife  of  his  trade  ! 

Most  of  the  guerrilleros  wore  masks.  The  leaders  were  all 
masked,  and  watched  the  proceedings  from  the  roof  of  the  alcal 
de's  house.  One  Pedro  knew  in  spite  of  his  disguise  ;  he  knew 
him  by  his  great  size  and  red  hair  ;  it  was  the  salteador,  El  Zorro. 
Others  he  guessed  at  ;  but  he  had  no  doubt  it  was  the  band  of 
Don  Rafael  Ijurra — nor  had  we. 

Had  they  left  the  rancheria  before  Pedro  and  the  others  came 
away  ? 

Pedro  thought  not  ;  he  and  the  other  victims,  as  soon  as 
they  got  out  of  the  hands  of  the  mob,  had  fled  to  the  cha 
parral,  and  were  making  for  the  American  camp  when  met  by 
our  scouts.  They  were  straggling  along  the  road  one  after  the 
other  ;  Rube  had  detained  them  bj  the  rancho,  till  we  should 
come  up. 

Pedro  feared  that  they  were  not  all — that  there  were  other 
victims  ;  the  alcalde,  he  feared,  had  been  worse  than  mutilated — 
he  had  been  murdered. 

This  last  information  the  poor  fellow  imparted  in  a  whisper — 
at  the  same  time  casting  a  sorrowful  look  towards  Conchita.  I 
had  not  the  courage  to  inquire  farther. 

The  question  arose  whether  we  should  send  back  for  more  men, 
and  wait  till  they  arrived,  or  advance  at  once  to  the  rancheria. 
The  former  was  negatived  with  unanimous  voice.  We  were 


306  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

strong  enough,  and  vengeance  was  impatient.    I  was  joyed  by 
the  decision  ;  I  could  not  have  waited. 

The  women  were  directed  to  continue  on  to  the  ranger-camp  ; 
Pedro,  mounted  behind  one  of  the  men,  should  go  with  us.  We 
needed  him  for  purposes  of  identification. 

We  were  about  to  move  forward,  when  a  figure  appeared 
along  the  road  in  the  direction  we  were  going  to  take.  On 
coming  within  sight  of  us,  the  figure  was  seen  to  skulk  and  hide 
in  the  bushes.  Rube  and  Garey  ran  rapidly  forward,  and  in  a 
few  minutes  returned  bringing  with  them  a  Mexican  youth — 
another  of  the  victims  ! 

He  had  left  the  scene  of  his  sufferings  somewat  later  than  the 
rest. 

Was  the  guerrilla  still  in  the  place  ? 

No  ;  they  were  gone  from  the  village. 

"  Whither  ?"  was  the  anxious  interrogatory. 
•   They  had  taken  the  up-river  road  towards  the  hacienda  de  Var 
gas.     They  had  passed  the  boy  as  he  lay  concealed  among  some 
aloes  ;  he  had  heard  their  cries  as  they  rushed  past. 

"  What  cries  ?" 

They  shouted  :  "  Mueran  al  traidor  y  traidwa !  Miter  an  ti 
padre  y  hija.  Isolina  la  p—t — a  /" 

"  O  merciful  God  1" 


THE   BIVOUAC   OF   THE    GUEEEILLA.  307 


CHAPTER    L  V  I  . 

THE     BIVOUAC     OF     THE     GUERRILLA. 

I  STAYED  to  hear  no  more,  but  drove  the  spurs  against  the 
ribs  of  my  horse,  till  he  sprang  in  full  gallop  along  the  road. 
Eager  as  were  my  men  to  follow,  'twas  as  much  as  they  could 
lo  to  keep  up. 

We  no  longer  thought  of  scouts  or  cautious  marching.  The 
trappers  had  mounted,  and  were  galloping  with  the  rest.  We 
thought  only  of  time. 

We  rode  for  the  hacienda  de  Yargas,  straight  up  the  river. 
Although  it  was  beyond  the  rancheria,  we  could  reach  it  with 
out  passing  through  the  latter — which  lay  some  distance  back 
from  the  stream.  We  could  return  to  the  village  afterwards, 
but  first  for  the  hacienda.  There  I  wished  to  arrive  in  the 
shortest  time  possible.  The  miles  flew  behind  us,  like  the  dust 
of  the  road. 

Oh,  should  we  not  be  in  time  !  I  feared  to  calculate  the 
length  of  the  interval  since  the  boy  had  heard  that  rabble  rout. 
Was  it  more  than  an  hour  ?  Five  miles  to  the  raucho,  and  he 
on  foot.  Had  he  travelled  rapidly  ?  Yes,  here  and  there  ;  but 
he  had  made  a  stop:  some  men  had  passed  him,  and  he  had 
hidden  in  the  bushes  till  they  were  out  of  sight.  He  had  been 
more  than  an  hour  on  the  way — nearly  two,  and  one  would  be 
enough  for  the  execution  of  the  darkest  deed.  Oh,  we  should 
not  arrive  in  time! 

There  was  no  delay  now.  We  were  going  at  top  speed,  and 
in  silence,  scarcely  exchanging  a  word.  Alone  might  be  heard 
the  chattering  of  hoofs,  the  clinking  of  bits,  or  the  ringing  of 


SOS  THE    WAR-TKAIL. 

steel  scabbards.  Neither  the  slimy  gutter  nor  the  deep  rat  of 
carreta  wheels  stayed  our  advance  ;  our  horses  leaped  over,  or 
went  sweltering  through  them. 

In  five  minutes  we  came  to  the  rineonada,  where  the  road 
forked — the  left  branch  leading  to  the  village.  We  saw  no  one, 
and  kept  on  by  the  right,  the  direct  road  to  the  hacienda.  An 
other  mile,  and  we  should  reach  the  house  ;  a  quarter  of  that 
distance,  and  we  should  come  in  sight  of  it  ;  the  trees  alone 
hindered  our  view  of  its  walls.  On — on  ! 

What  means  that  light  ?  Is  the  sun  rising  in  the  West  ?  Is 
the  chaparral  on  fire  ?  Whence  comes  the  yellow  gleam,  half 
intercepted  by  the  trunks  of  the  trees  ?  It  is  not  the  moon! 

"  Ho!  the  hacienda  is  in  flames  !" 

"  No — it  cannot  be  !  A  house  of  stone,  with  scarcely 
enough  timber  to  make  a  blaze  !  It  cannot  be  that  !" 

It  is  not  that.  We  emerge  from  the  forest  ;  the  hacienda  is 
before  our  eyes.  Its  white  walls  gleam  under  a  yellow  light — 
the  light  of  fire,  but  not  of  a  conflagration.  The  house  stands 
intact.  A  huge  bon-fire  burns  in  front  of  the  portal  ;  it  was 
this  that  caused  the  glare  through  the  forest. 

We  draw  up,  and  gaze  upon  it  with  surprise.  We  behold  a 
huge  pile — the  material  supplied  from  the  household  stack  of 
dry  fagots — a  vast  blaze  drowning  the  pale  moonshine.  We  can 
see  the  hacienda,  and  all  around  it,  as  distinctly  as  by  the  light 
of  day ! 

For  what  purpose  this  holocaust  of  crackling  acacias  ? 

Around  the  fire  we  behold  many  forms,  living  and  moving. 
There  are  men,  women,  dogs  and  saddled  horses.  Huge  joints 
are  roasting  over  the  red  coals,  and  others,  roasted,  are  being 
greedily  eaten.  Are  they  savages  who  surround  that  blazing 
pile  ?  No — we  can  see  their  faces  with  full  distinctness,  the 
white  skins  and  black  beards  of  the  men,  the  cotton  garments 
of  the  women  ;  we  can  see  sombreros  and  serape>,  cloth  clonks 
and  calzoueros  of  velveteen,  sashes  and  sabres  ;  fre  can  distin 


THE   BIVOUAC    3F   THE   GUERRILLA.  309 

guish  their  voices  as  they  shout,  sing  and  carouse  :  we  note 
their  lascivious  movements  in  the  national  dance — the  fandango. 
No  Indians  they  I  7Tis  a  bivouac  of  the  guerrilleros — the 
ruffians  for  whom  we  are  in  search. 

O,  that  I  had  listened  to  the  voice  of  prudence,  and  adopted 
the  strategy  of  a  surround  !  But  my  blood  was  boiling,  and  1 
feared  to  lose  even  a  moment  of  time,  lest  we  might  be  too  late. 
But  one  or  two  of  my  followers  counselled  delay,  and,  as  the 
event  proved,  they  were  the  wisest.  The  rest,  like  myself,  were 
impatient  for  action. 

The  word  was  given,  and  like  hounds,  fresh  loosed  from  the 
leash,  we  rushed  forward  with  charging  cheer. 

It  was  the  madness  of  fools.  Well  knew  our  enemy  the 
hoarse  Texan  "  hurrah  1"  It  had  been  shouted  to  terrify  them, 
when  there  was  no  need.  They  would  never  have  stood 
ground. 

The  shout  warned  them,  causing  them  to  scatter  like  a  herd 
af  deer.  The  steep  hill  proved  too  heavy  for  our  horses  ;  and 
before  we  could  reach  its  summit,  the  main  body  of  the  guer 
rilla  had  mounted,  and  scampered  off  into  the  darkness.  Six  of 
them  fell  to  our  shots,  and  as  many  more,  with  their  she-asso 
ciates,  remained  prisoners  in  our  hands  ;  but  as  usual  that 
subtle  coward  had  contrived  to  escape.  Pursuit  was  idle!  they 
had  taken  to  the  dark  woods  beyond  the  hill. 

I  thought  not  of  pursuit  ;  my  mind  was  bent  on  a  far  differ 
ent  purpose. 

I  rode  into  the  patio.  The  court  was  lit  up  by  the  glare  of 
the  fire.  It  presented  a  picture  of  ruin,  Rich  furniture  was 
scattered  about  in  the  veranda  and  over  the  pavement,  broken 
or  tumbled  down.  I  called  her  name — the  name  of  Don 
Ramon.  Loudly  and  earnestly  did  I  raise  my  voice,  but  echo 
gave  the  only  reply. 

I  dismounted,  and  rushed  into  the  veranda,  still  vociferating, 
and  still  without  receiving  a  response.  I  hurried  frcm  room  to 


31Q  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

room — from  cuarto  to  said — from  sala  to  sagua-n — np  to  *^ie 
azotea — everywhere — even  to  the  capilla  in  the  rear.  The 
moonbeams  gleamed  upon  the  altar,  but  no  human  form  was 
there.  The  whole  house  was  deserted  ;  the  domestics — even 
the  women  of  the  cocina — had  disappeared.  My  horse  and  I 
seemed  the  only  living  things  within  those  walls — for  my  follow 
ers  had  remain  outside  with  their  prisoners. 

A  sudden  hope  gleamed  across  my  heart.  Perhaps  they  had 
taken  my  counsel,  and  gone  off  before  the  mob  appeared  ! 
Heaven  grant  it  might  be  so  ! 

I  rushed  out  to  question  the  captives.  They  should  know, 
both  men  and  women:  they  could  certainly  tell  me. 

A  glance  showed  me  I  was  too  late  to  receive  information 
from  the  men.  A  large  pecan  tree  stood  at  one  corner  of  the 
building.  The  firelight  glared  upon  it;  from  its  branches  hung 
six  human  forms  with  drooping  heads,  and  feet  far  from  the 
earth.  They  had  just  ceased  to  live! 

One  told  me  that  the  herredero  was  among  them,  and  also 
the  cruel  matador.  Pedro  had  identified  both.  The  others 
were  pelados  of  the  town,  who  had  borne  part  in  the  affair  of  the 
day.  Their  judges  had  made  quick  work,  and  equally  quick 
had  been  the  ceremony  of  execution.  Lazos  had  been  reeved 
over  the  limbs  of  the  pecan,  and  with  these  all  six  had  be^n 
jerked  up  without  shrift  or  prayer! 

It  was  not  revenge  for  which  I  panted.  I  turned  to  tne 
women;  many  of  these  had  made  off,  but  there  were  still  a 
dozen  or  more  in  the  hands  of  the  men.  They  looked  haggard 
with  drink;  some  sullen,  and  some  terrified.  They  had  reason 
to  be  afraid. 

In  answer  to  my  questions,  they  shook  their  heads,  but  gave 
me  no  information.  Some  remained  doggedly  silent;  others  denied 
all  knowledge  of  Don  Ramon  or  his  daughter.  Threats  had  no 
effect.  They  either  knew  not,  or  feared  to  tell  what  had  befiJ 
len  them.  0  heaven!  could  it  be  the  latter  ? 


THK  BIVOUAC  OF  THE  GUERRILLA.         311 

I  was  turning  away  angered  and  despairing,  when  my  eyes 
fell  upon  a  figure  that  seemed  to  skulk  under  the  shadow  of  the 
walls.  A  shout  of  joy  escaped  as  I  recognized  the  boy  Cyprio; 
he  was  just  emerging  from  his  place  of  concealment. 

"  Cyprio  \»  I  cried. 

"  Si,  seftor,"  answered   he,    advancing   rapidly    to  where  1 
tood. 

"  Tell  me,  Cyprio,  where  are  they  gone — where — where  ?" 

"  Carrai,  senor!  these  bad  men  have  carried  the  dueno  away: 
I  do  not  know  whither." 

"  The  senora  ?  the  senora  ?" 

"Oh!  cavallero,  es  una  cosa  espantosa !"  (It  is  a  terrible 
thing.) 

"  Quick,  tell  me  all !     Quickly  Cyprio!" 

"  Senor,  there  came  men  with  black  masks,  who  broke  into 
the  house  and  carried  off  the  master;  then  they  dragged  out 
Dona  Isolina  into  the  patio!  Ay  de  mi!  I  cannot  tell  you 
what  they  did  before — pobre  senorita !  There  was  blood  running 
down  her  neck  and  all  over  her  breast:  she  was  not  dressed, 
and  I  could  see  it.  Some  went  to  the  caballeriza,  and  led  out 
the  white  horse — the  steed  that  was  brought  from  the  llanos. 
Upon  his  back  they  bound  Dona  Isolina.  Valga  me  dios  !  such 
a  sight!" 

"Goon!" 

"  Then,  senor,  they  led  the  horse  across  the  river,  and  out  to 
the  plain  beyond.  All  went  along,  to  see  the  sport,  as  they 
said — ay  de  mi!  such  sport!  I  did  not  go,  for  they  beat  and 
threatened  to  kill  me;  but  I  saw  all  from  the  hill-top,  where  I 
had  hidden  myself  in  the  bushes.  O  Santisima  Maria!" 

"  Go  on!" 

"  Then  senor,  they  stuck  cohetes  in  the  hips  of  the  horse,  and 
set  them  on  fire,  and  pulled  off  the  bridle,  and  the  steed  went  off, 
with  fire-rockets  after  him,  and  Dona  Isolina  tied  down  upon  his 
back — pobre  senorita !  I  could  see  the  horse  till  he  was  far,  fai 


312  THE   WAR-TKAIL. 

away  upon  the  llano,  and  then  I  could  see  him  no  more.  Dioi 
de  mi  almo  !  la  nina  esta  perdida  /"  ( Alas  the  young  lady  is 
lost.) 

11  Some  water  !  Rube  !  Garey  !  friends — >water  I  wa 
ter  !" 

I  made  an  attempt  to  reach  the  fountain  in  the  patio  ;  but, 
after  staggering  dizzily  a  pace  or  two,  my  strength  failed  me, 
and  I  fell  fainting  to  the  earth. 


CHAPTER  LYII. 

TAKING      THE     TRAIL. 

I  HAD  merely  swooned.  My  nerves  and  frame  were  still  weak 
from  the  blood-letting  I  had  received  in  the  combat  of  yesterday. 
The  shock  of  the  horid  news  was  too  much  for  my  powers  of  en 
durance. 

I  was  insensible  only  for  a  short  while  ;  the  cold  water  revived 
me. 

When  consciousness  returned,  I  was  by  the  fountain,  my  back 
leaning  against  its  parapet  edge  ;  Rube,  Garey,  and  others  were 
around  me.  From  my  dripping  garments,  I  perceived  that  they 
had  douched  me,  and  one  was  pouring  a  fiery  spirit  down  ni\ 
throat.  There  were  men  on  horseback,  who  had  ridden  into  the 
patio — the  iron  hoofs  causing  the  court  to  ring.  They  were 
rangers,  but  not  those  who  had  left  camp  in  my  company.  Some 
had  arrived  since,  and  others  were  still  galloping  up.  Those 
girls  had  reached  the  ranger  camp,  and  told  their  tale.  The 
men  had  not  waited  for  orders,  or  even  for  one  another,  but 
rushing  to  their  horses,  took  the  road  in  twos  and  threes, 
fivery  moment,  a  horseman,  or  several  together,  came  riding 


TAKING    THE   TEAIL.  313 

forward  in  hot  haste,  carrying  their  rifles,  as  if  ready  for  action, 
acd  uttering  loud  cries  of  indignation. 

Wheatley  had  arrived  among  the  foremost.  Poor  fellow  !  his 
habitual  buoyancy  had  departed ;  the  gay  smile  was  gone  from 
his  lips.  His  eyes  were  on  fire,  and  his  teeth  set  in  the  stern 
expression  of  heart-consuming  vengeance. 

Amidst  the  hoarse  shouting  of  the  men,  I  heard  screaming  in 
the  shriller /voices  of  women.  It  came  from  without. 

I  rose  hastily,  and  ran  towards  the  spot  :  I  saw  several  of  the 
wretched  captives  stripped  to  the  waist,  and  men  in  the  act  of 
flogging  them,  with  mule-quirts  and  pieces  of  raw  hide  rope. 

I  had  feared  it  was  worse  ;  I  had  feared  that  their  captors 
were  inflicting  upon  them  a  retaliation  in  kind.  But  no — angry 
as  were  my  followers,  they  had  not  proceeded  to  such  a  fiendish 
extremity. 

It  required  all  the  authority  of  a  command  to  put  an  end  to 
this  distressing  spectacle.  They  desisted  at  length,  and  the 
screeching  and  affrighted  wretches  were  permitted  to  take  them 
selves  away — all  disappearing  rapidly  beyond  the  light  of  the 
fire. 

At  this  crisis,  a  shout  was  raised  :  "  To  the  rancheria,  to  the 
rancheria  F  and  instantly  a  party,  with  Wheatley  and  Hoiings- 
worth  at  its  head,  rode  off  for  the  village.  Pedro  went  along 
with  them. 

"I  waited  not  for  their  return  ;  I  had  formed  a  plan  of  action 
for  myself,  that  would  admit  of  no  delay  in  its  execution. 

At  first,  stunned  by  the  blow,  and  the  distraction  of  my 
swooning  senses,  I  had  not  been  able  to  think  ;  as  soon  as  the 
confusion  passed,  and  I  could  reflect  more  clearly,  the  course  I 
ought  to  pursue  was  at  once  apparent.  Vengeance  I  bad  felt 
as  the  first  impulse,  and  a  strong  desire  to  follow  up  the  fiend 
ljurra — night  and  day  to  follow  him — though  the  pursuit  should 
lead  me  into  the  heart  of  the  hostile  ground. 

This  was  but  a  momentary  impulse  :  vengeance  must  be  stifled 

14 


314  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

for  the  time.  A  path  was  to  be  taken  that  widely  diverged 
from  that  of  the  retreating  guerrilla — the  trail  of  the  wJiti 
ileed. 

Mounting  Cyprio,  and  choosing  from  my  band  half  a  dozen  of 
the  best  trackers,  was  the  work  of  a  moment.  In  another,  we 
were  in  the  saddle  ;  and  descending  the  hill,  we  plunged  rapidly 
through  the  stream,  crossed  the  skirting  timber,  and  soon  reached 
the  open  prairie. 

Under  Cyprio's  guidance,  we  found  the  spot  desecrated  by 
that  cruel  desplay.  The  ground  was  trampled  by  many  hoofs  ; 
fragments  of  paper — powder  blackened — broken  rocket-sticks, 
and  half-burnt  fuses,  strewed  the  sward — the  pyrotechnic  rdiquia 
of  the  fiendish  spectacle. 

We  halted  not  there.     By  the  aid  of  our  guide  and  the  moon 
light,  we  rode  clear  of  the  confusion  ;  and  taking  up  the  traiU 
of  the  horse,  struck  off  upon  it,  and  were  soon  far  out  upon  the 
prairie. 

For  more  than  a  mile  we  advanced  at  a  gallop.  Time  was 
every  thing.  Trusting  to  the  intelligence  of  the  Mexican  boy,  we 
scarcely  scrutinized  the  track,  but  made  directly  for  the  point 
where  the  horse  had  been  last  seen. 

Cyprio's  information  did  not  deceive  ns.  A  motte  of  timber 
had  served  him  as  a  mark  :  the  steed  had  passed  close  to  its 
edge.  Beyond  it,  he  had  seen  him  no  more. 

Beyond  it,  we  found  the  tracks,  easily  recognizable  by  Rune, 
Garey,  and  myself.  There  was  a  peculiarity  by  which  we  were 
prevented  from  mistaking  them  :  three  of  the  prints  were  clearly 
cut  in  the  turf — almost  perfect  circles — the  curve  of  the  fourth- 
of  the  fore-foot — was  interrupted  by  a  slight  indentation,  where  a 
piece  had  been  broken  from  the  hoof.  It  had  been  done  in  that 
terrible  leap  upon  the  rocky  bed  of  the  barranca. 

Taking  the  trail  again,  we  kept  on — now  advancing  at  a 
slower  pace,  and  with  a  greater  degree  of  caution.  Late  rains 
had  moistened  the  prairie-turf  ^nd  we  could  perceive  the  tracks 


TAKING   THE   TEAIL.  31  £ 

without  dismounting  At  intervals  there  were  stretches  of  drier 
surface,  where  the  hoofs  had  scarcely  left  its  impression.  la 
such  places,  one  leaped  from  the  saddle,  and  led  the  way  on  foot. 
Rube  or  Garey  usually  performed  this  office  ;  and  so  rapidly  did 
they  move  along  the  trail,  that  our  horses  were  seldom  in  a  walk. 
With  bodies  half  bent,  and  eyes  gliding  along  the  ground,  they 
pressed  forward  like  hounds  running  by  the  scent,  but,  unlike 
these,  the  trackers  made  no  noise.  Not  a  word  was  spoken  by 
any  one.  I  had  no  list  for  speech  ;  my  agony  was  too  intense 
for  utterance. 

With  Cyprio  I  had  conversed  upon  the  harrowing  theme,  and 
that  only  at  starting.  From  him  I  had  gathered  further  details. 
No  doubt,  the  matador  had  performed  his  office.  O  God  ! 
without  ears  ! 

Cyprio  had  seen  blood  ;  it  was  streaming  adown  her  neck  and 
over  her  bosom  ;  her  slight  garments  were  stained  red  with  it. 
He  knew  not  whence  it  came,  or  why  she  was  bleeding.  He 
was  not  present  when  that  blood  had  been  drawn  ;  it  was  in  her 
chamber,  he  thought.  She  was  bleeding  when  the  ruffians 
dragged  her  forth. 

Belike,  too,  the  herrero  had  done  his  work  ?  Cyprio  had 
seen  the  blacksmith,  but  not  the  fierro.  He  heard  they  had 
branded  some  at  the  plaza,  among  others  the  daughter  of  the 
alcaldd — poire  Conchita !  He  did  not  see  them  brand  the  Dona 
Isolina. 

The  ruffian  deed  might  have  been  accomplished  for  all  that  ; 
there  was  plenty  of  time,  while  the  boy  lay  hid. 

How  was  she  placed  upon  the  horse  ? 

Despite  my  heart's  bitterness,  as  I  put  these  interrogatories, 
I  could  not  help  thinking  of  the  Cossack  legend.  The  famed 
classic  picture  came  vividly  before  my  mind.  Wide  was  the  dis 
tance  between  the  Ukraine  and  the  Rio  Bravo.  Had  the  mon 
sters  who  re-enacted  this  scene  on  the  banks  of  the  Mexican 
river — had  these  ever  heard  of  Mazeppa  ?  Possibly  their  leadei 


316  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

had  ;  but  still  more  probable  that  the  fiendish  thought  was  ori 
ginal. 

The  fashion  at  least  was.  Cyprio  had  seen  and  could  describe 
it. 

She  was  laid  longitudinally  upon  the  back  of  the  steed,  her 
-head  resting  upon  the  point  of  his  shoulder.  Her  face  was 
downward,  her  cheek  touching  the  withers.  Her  arms  embraced 
the  neck,  and  her  wrists  were  made  fast  under  the  animal's 
throat.  Her  body  was  held  in  position  by  means  of  a  belt  around 
her  waist,  attached  to  a  surcingle  on  the  horse — both  tightly 
buckled.  In  addition  to  this,  her  ankles,  bound  together  by  a 
thong,  were  fastened  to  the  croupr  with  her  feet  projecting  be 
yond  the  hips  ! 

I  groaned  as  I  listened  to  the  details. 

The  ligature  was  perfect — cruelly  complete.  There  was  no 
hope  that  such  fastenings  would  give  way.  Those  thongs  of  raw 
hide  would  not  come  undone.  Horse  and  rider  could  never  part 
from  that  unwilling  embrace — never,  till  hunger,  thirst,  death — 
no,  not  even  death  could  part  them  !  0  horror  ! 

Not  without  groans  could  I  contemplate  the  hideous  fate  cf 
my  betrothed — of  her  whose  love  had  become  my  life. 

I  left  the  tracking  to  my  comrades,  and  my  horse  to  follow 
after.  I  rode  with  loose  rein,  and  head  drooping  forward  ;  I 
scarcely  gave  thought  to  design.  My  heart  was  well-nigh  broken, 


THE  VOTAGKUK.        .  SI 7 

,. 


'CHAPTER    LVIJI. 

THE    VOYAGEUR. 

WE  had  not  gone  far  when  some  one  closed  up  beside  me,  arid 
muttered  a  word  of  cheer  ;  I  recognized  the  friendly  voice  of  the 
big  trapper. 

"Don't  be  afeerd,  cap'n,"  said  he  in  a  tone  of  encouragement; 
"  don't  be  afeerd  !  Rube  an  me'll  find  'em  afore  thar's  any 
harm  done.  I  don't  b'lieve  the  white  boss  '11  gallip  fur,  knowin 
thar'S  somebody  on  his  back.  It  war  them  gim-cracks  that  sot 
him  off.  When  they  burn  out,  he'll  come  to  a  dead  halt,  an 
;hen  " 

"  And  then  ?"  I  inquired  mechanically. 

"  We'll  get  up>  an  your  black'll  be  able  to  overhaul  him  in  a 
jump  or  two." 

I  began  to  feel  hope.  It  was  but  a  momentary  gleam,  and 
died  out  in  the  next  instant. 

If  the  moon  'ud  only  hold  out,"  continued  Garey,  with  an  em 
phasis  denoting  doubt. 

"Rot  the  moon!"  said  a  voice  interrupting  him;  "she's 
gwine  to  guv  out.  Wagh  1" 

It  was  Rube  who  had  uttered  the  unpleasant  prognostication, 
in'a  peevish,  but  confident  tone. 

All  eyes  were  turned  upward.  The  moon,  round  and  white, 
was  sailing  through  a  cloudless  sky,  and  almost  in  the  zenith. 
Horo,  then,  was  she  to  "  give  out  ?"  She  was  near  the  full,  and 
could  not  set  before  morning.  What  did  Rube  mean  ?  The 
question  was  put  to  him. 


318  THE   WAB-TBAIL. 

"  Lookee  Bander  !"  said  he  in  reply.  "  D'ees  see  thet  ur  black 
line,  down  low  on  the  paraira  T' 

There  appeared  a  dark  streak  along  the  horizon  to  the  east 
ward.  Yes,  we  saw  it. 

"  Wai,"  continued  Rube,  "  thur's  no  timber  thur — ne'er  a 
stick — nor  high  groun  neyther  :  thet  ur's  a  cloud  ;  I've  seed  the 
likes  afore.  Wait  a  bit.  Wagh  !  In  jest  ten  minutes,  the 
durned  thing'll  kiver  up  the  moon,  and  make  thet  pretty  blue 
sky  look  as  black  as  the  hide  7o  an  Afrikin  niggur — it  will.'*" 

"  Fm  afeerd  he's  right,  cap'n,"  said  Garey,  in  a  desponding 
tone.  "  I  war  doubtful  o'  it  myself:  the  sky  looked  too  wear.  I 
didn't  like  it  a  bit  :  thar's  always  a  change  when  things  are  bet- 
ter'n  common." 

I  needed  not  to  inquire  the  consequences,  should  Rube's  pre 
diction  prove  correct  j  that  was  evident  to  all  of  us.  The  moon 
once  obscured  by  clouds,  our  progress  would  be  arrested  :  even 
a  horse  could  not  be  tracked  in  the  darkness. 

We  were  not  long  in  suspense.  Again  the  foresight  of  the 
old  trapper  proved  unerring.  Cumuli  rolled  up  the  eky  one 
after  another,  until  their  black  masses  shrouded  the  moon.  At 
first,  they  came  only  in  detached  clouds,  and  there  was  light  afc 
intervals  ;  but  these  were  only  the  advanced  columns  of  a  heavier 
body,  that  soon  appeared,  and  without  a  break,  spread  itself 
pall-like  over  the  firmament. 

The  moon's  disc  became  entirely  hidden  from  our  view  ;  her 
scattered  beams  died  out,  and  the  prairie  lay  dark  as  if  shad 
owed  by  an  eclipse. 

We  could  follow  the  trail  no  further.  The  ground  itself  waa 
not  visible,  much  less  the  hoof-prints  we  had  been  tracing  ;  and 
halting  simultaneously,  we  drew  our  horses  together,  and  sat  in 
our  saddles  to  deliberate  upon  what  was  best  to  be  done. 

The  consultation  was  a  short  one.  They  who  formed  that 
little  party  were  all  men  of  prairie  or  backwoods  experience,,  and 
well  versed  in  the  ways  of  the  wilderness.  It  took  them  but 


THE  VOYAGEUB. 

tittle  time  to  decide  what  course  should  be  followed  ;  and  they 
were  unanimous  in  their  opinion.  Should  the  sky  continue 
clouded,  we  must  give  up  the  pursuit  till  morning,  or  adopt  the 
only  alternative — follow  the  trail  up  by  torch-light. 

Of  course  the  latter  was  determined  nnon.  It  was  yet  early  in 
the  night  ;  many  hours  must  intervene  before  we  should  havf 
the  light  of  day.  I  could  not  live  through  these  long  hours 
without  action.  Even  though  our  progress  might  be  slow,  the 
knowledge  that  we  were  advancing  would  help  to  stifle  the  pain- 
fulness  of  reflection-.  - 

"  A  torch. !  a  torch  !" 

Where  was-  such  a  thing  to  be  procured?  We  had  with  us 
no  material  with  which  to  make  one  ;  there  was  no  timber  near  ! 
We  were  in  the  middle  of  a  naked  prairie.  The  universal  mezquite 
— the  algar  obia  glandulosa — excellent  for  such  a  purpose,  grew 
nowhere  in  the  neighborhood.  Who  was  to  find  the  torch  ? 
Even  Rube's  ingenuity  could  not  make  one  out  of  nothing. 

"  Ecoutez.  mon  capitaiue  I"  cried  Le  Blanc,  an  old  voyageur 
— "ecoutez  !  vy  me  no  ride  back,  et  von  lanterne  bring  from  ze 
ville  Mexicaine  ?" 

True,  why  not  ?  We  were  yet  but  a  few  miles  from  the  rnn- 
eheria.  The  Canadian's  idea  was  a  good  one. 

"  Je  connais,"  he  continued — "know  I,  pe  gar  !  ze  ver  spot 
ou — vere — sont  cachees — hid — les  chandelles  maguifiques — -von, 
deux,  tree  big  candles — vax — vax." 

"  Wax  candles  ?" 

41  Oui — oui,  messieurs !  tres  grand  com  me  un  baton  ;  ze  ver 
chose  pour  allumer  la  prairie  " 

"  You  know  where  they  are  ?  You  could  find  them,  Le 
Blanc  ?" 

u  OuJ,  messieurs — je  connais :  les  chandeiles  sout  cachees  dans 
feglise— zey  are  in  ze  church  hid." 

*'  Ha  1  in  the  church  ?" 

*'  Oui,  messieurs  ;  c'est  un  grand  sacrilege,  mon  Dieu  '  ver 


320  THE    WAK-TKAIL. 

baa  ;  mais  n'importe  cela.  Eef  mon  capitaine  permis,  vill  allo* 
pour  aller  Monsieur  Quack'bosh,  he  go  chez  moi  ;  nous  cherch- 
erons  ;  ve  bring  ze  chandelles — pe  gar  we  bring  him  !" 

From  the  mixed  gibberish  of  the  voyageur,  I  cocid  gather  his 
meaning  well  enough.  He  knew  of  a  depository  of  wax  candles, 
and  the  church  of  the  rancheria  was  the  place  in  which  they  were 
kept.  1  was  not  in  a  frame  of  mind  to  care  much  for  the  sacri 
lege,  and  my  companions  were  still  less  scrupulous.  The  act  was 
determined  upon,  and  Le  Blanc  and  Quackenboss,  without  more 
delay,  took  the  back-track  for  the  village. 

The  rest  of  us  dismounted,  and  picketing  our  horses  to  the 
grass,  lay  down  to  await  the  return  of  the  messengers 


CHAPTER    LIX. 

TRAILING     BY     TORCH-LIGHT. 

WHILE  thus  inactive,  my  mind  yielded  itself  up  to  the  con 
templation  of  painful  probabilities.  Horrid  spectacles  pasted 
before  my  imagination.  I  saw  the  white  horse  galloping  ov<?r 
the  plain,  pursued  by  wolves,  and  shadowed  by  black  vultures. 
To  escape  these  hungry  pursuers,  I  saw  him  dash  into  the  thick 
chaparral,  to  encounter  the  red  panther  or  the  fierce  prowling 
bear — there  to  encounter  the  sharp  thorns  of  the  acacias,  the 
barbed  spines  of  the  cactus,  and  the  recurving  claw-like  arma 
ture  of  the  wild  aloes.  I  could  see  the  red  blood  streaming 
ddown  his  white  flanks — not  his  blood,  but  that  of  the  helpless 
victim  stretched  prostrate  along  his  back.  I  could  see  the 
lacerated  limbs — the  ankles  chafed  and  swollen — the  garments 
torn  to  shreds — the  drooping  head — the  long  loose  hair  tossed 
and  trailing  to  the  earth — the  white  wan  lips — the  woe-bespeak- 


TRAILING   BY   TOECH-LIGHT.  ,321 

ing  eyes Oh!  I  could  bear  my  reflections  no  longer.  I 

sprang  to  my  feet,  and  pacecP  the  prairie  with  the  aimless 
unsteady  step  of  a  madman. 

Again  the  kind-hearted  trapper  approached,  and  renewed  hifc 
efforts  to  console  me. 

"We  could  follow  the  trail,"  be  said,  "by  torch  or  candle 
liglit,  almost  as  fast  as  we  could  travel;  we  should  be  manj 
miles  along  it  before  morning;  maybe  before  then  we  should  gel 
sight  of  the  steed.  It  would  not  be  hard  to  surround  and  cap 
ture  him;  now  that  he  was  half-tamed,  he  might  not  run  from 
us;  if  he  did,  he  could  be  overtaken.  Once  in  view,  we  would 
nov  lose  sight  of  him  again.  The  saynyora  would  be  safe 
3noagh;  there  was  nothing  to  hurt  her:  the  wolves  would  not 
know  the  "  fix  "  she  was  in,  neyther  the  "  bars  r  nor  "  painters." 
We  should  be  sure  to  come  up  with  her  before  the  next  night, 
and  would  find  her  first  rate;  a  little  tired  and  huligry,  nc 
doubt,  but  nothing  to  hurt.  We  should  relieve  her,  and  rest 
would  set  all  right  again." 

Notwithstanding  the  rude  phrase  in  which  these  consolatory 
remarks  were  made,  I  appreciated  the  kind  intent, 

Garey's  speech  had  the  effect  of  rendering  me  more  hopeful; 
and  in  calmer  mood,  I  awaited  the  return  of  Quackenboss  and 
the  Canadian. 

These  did  not  linger.  Two  hours  had  been  allowed  them  to 
perform  their  errand:  but  long  before  the  expiration  of  that 
period,  we  heard  the  double  trampling  of  their  horses  as  they 
came  galloping  across  the  plaim. 

In  a  few  minutes  they  rode  up,  and  we  could  see  in  the  hands 
of  Le  Blanc  three  whitish  objects,  that  in  length  and  thickness 
resembled  stout  walking-canes.  We  recognized  les  chandettes 
magnifiques. 

They  were  the  property  of  the  church,  designed  no  doubt 

to  have  illumined  the  altar  upon  the  occasion  of  some  grand  dw 
d«.  fiesta. 

14* 


SSJ2  THE    WAK-TEAIL. 

"Voila!  mon  capitaine!"  cried  the  Canadian,  as  he  rode 
forward,  "  voila  les  chaudelles!  Ah,  mon  Dieu !  c*est  von  big 
sacrilege,  et  je  suis  bon  Chretien — buen  Catolico,  as  do  call  'im 
ze  dam  Mexicaine  ;  bien — ze  bon  Dieu  we  forgive — God  ve  par 
don  vill  pour — for  the  grand  necessitie  ;  sure  certaine  he  vill  me 
pardon — Lige  et  moi — ze  brave  Monsieur  Quack'bosh." 

The  messengers  had  brought  news  from  the  village.  Some 
rough  proceedings  had  taken  place  since  our  departure.  Men 
had  been  punished  ;  fresh  victims  had  been  found  under  the 
guidance  of  Pedro  and  others  of  the  abused.  The  trees  in  ths 
church  enclosure  that  night  bore  horrid  fruit. 

The  alcalde*  was  not  dead;  and  Don  Ramon,  it  was  supposed, 
still  survived,  but  had  been  carried  off  a  prisoner  by  the  guer 
rilla  !  The  rangers  were  yet  at  the  rancheria;  many  had  been 
desirous  of  returning  with  Le  Blanc  and  Quackenboss,  but  I  had 
sent  orders  to  the  lieutenants  to  take  all  back  to  camp  as  soon 
as  their  affair  was  over.  The  fewer  of  the  troop  that  should  be 
absent,  the  less  likelihood  of  our  being  missed,  and  those  I  had 
with  me  I  deemed  enough  for  my  purpose.  Whether  successful 
or  not,  we  should  soon  return  to  camp.  It  would  then  be  time 
to  devise  some  scheme  for  capturing  the  leader  and  prime  actor 
in  this  terrible  tragedy. 

Hardly  waiting  to  hear  the  story,  we  lighted  the  great  candles, 
and  moved  once  more  along  the  trail. 

Fortunately,  the  breeze  was  but  slight,  and  only  served  to 
make  the  huge  waxen  torches  flare  more  freely.  By  their  bril 
liant  blaze,  we  were  enabled  to  take  up  the  tracks,  quite  as 
rapidly  as  by  the  moonlight.  At  this  point,  the  horse  had  been 
still  going  at  full  gallop  ;  and  his  course,  as  it  ran  in  a  direct 
line,  rendered  it  more  easy  to  be  followed. 

Dark  as  the  night  was,  we  soon  perceived  we  were  heading 
for  a  point  well  known  to  all  of  us— the  prairie  mound  ;  and,  un 
der  a  faint  belief  that  the  steed  might  have  there  come  to  a  stop, 
vre  pressed  forward  witV  a  sort  of  hopeful  anticipation 


TKAILING   BY   TOUCH-LIGHT.  323 

After  an  hour's  tracking,  the  white  cliffs  loomed  within  the 
circle  of  our  view,  the  shining  selenite  glancing  back  the  light  of 
our  tapers,  like  a  wall  set  with  diamonds. 

We  approached  with  caution,  still  keeping  on  the  trail,  but 
also  keenly  scrutinizing  the  ground  in  advance  of  us — in  hopes 
of  perceiving  the  object  of  our  search.  Neither  by  the  clifl^  nor 
n  the  gloom  around,  was  living  form  to  be  traced. 

Sure  enough  the  steed  had  halted  there,  or,  at  all  events, 
ceased  from  his  wild  gallop.  He  had  approached  the  mound  in 
a  walk,  as  the  tracks  testified  ;  but  how,  and  in  what  direction 
had  he  gone  thence  ?  His  hoof-prints  no  longer  appeared.  He 
had  passed  over  the  shingle,  that  covered  the  plain  to  a  distance 
of  many  yards  from  the  base  of  the  cliff,  and  no  track  could  be 
found  beyond. 

Several  times  we  went  around  the  mesa,  carrying  our  candles 
everywhere.  We  saw  skeletons-  of  men  and  horses  with  skulls 
detached,  fragments  of  dresses,  and  pieces  of  broken  armor — sou 
venirs  of  our  late  skirmish — we  looked  into  our  little  fortress,  and 
gazed  upon  the  rock  that  had  sheltered  us  ;  we  glanced  up  the 
gorge  where  we  had  climbed,  and  beheld  the  rope  by  which  we 
had  descended  still  hanging  in  its  place  :  all  these  we  saw,  but 
no  further  traces  of  the  steed  1 

Round  and  round  we  went,  back  and  forward,  over  the  stony 
shingle,  and  along  its  outer  edge,  but  still  without  coming  upon 
the  tracks.  Whither  could  the  horse  have  gone  ! 

Perhaps,  with  a  better  light,  we  might  have  found  the  trail; 
but  for  a  long  hour  we  searched,  without  striking  upon  any  sign 
of  it.  Perhaps  we  might  still  have  found  it,  even  with  our 
waxen  torches,  but  for  an  incident  that  not  only  interrupted  our 
search,  but  filled  us  with  fresh  apprehension,  and  almost  stifled 
Our  hopes  of  success. 

The  interruption  did  not  come  unexpected.  The  clouds  had 
for  some  time  given  ample  warning.  The  big  solitary  drops 
that  at  intervals  fell  with  plashing  noise  upon  the  rocks, 


324  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

but  the  avant-courriers  of  one  of  the  great  rain  storms  of  the 
prairie,  when  water  descends  as  if  from  a  shower-bath.  "We 
knew  from  the  signs  that  such  a  storm  was  nigh  ;  aiifl  while 
casting  around  to  recover  the  trail,  it  commenced  in  all  its  fury. 

Almost  in  an  instant  our  lights  were  extinguished,  and  our 
bootless  search  brought  to  a  termination. 

We  drew  up  under  the  rocks,  and  stood  side  by  side  in  sullen 
silence.  Even  the  elements  seemed  against  me.  In  my  hearth 
bitterness,  I  cursed  them. 


CHAPTER      L  X . 

THE    SOMBRERO. 

THE  horses  cowered  under  the  cold  rain,  all  of  them  jaded 
and  hungry.  The  hot  dusty  march  of  the  morning,  and  the 
long  rough  gallop  of  the  night,  had  exhausted  their  strength ; 
and  they  stood  with  drooped  heads  and  hanging  ears,  dozing 
and  motionless. 

The  men,  too,  were  wearied — some  of  them  quite  worn  out, 
A  few  kept  their  feet,  bridle  in  hand,  under  shelter  of  the 
impending  cliff ;  the  others,  having  staggered  down,  with  their 
backs  against  the  rock,  had  almost  instantly  fallen  asleep. 

For  me  was  neither  sleep  nor  rest;  I  did  not  even  seek  pro 
tection  against  the  storm,  but  standing  clear  of  the  cliff,  received 
the  drenching  shower  full  upon  my  shoulders.  It  was  the  chill 
rain  of  the  "norther;"  but  at  that  moment  neither  cold  nortt 
nor  hot  sirocco  could  have  produced  upon  me  an  impression  of 
pain.  To  physical  suffering  I  was  insensible.  I  should  even 
have  welcomed  ic,  for  I  well  understood  the  truth,  proverbially 
expressed  in  that  language,  rich  above  all  others  in  proverbial 


THE    SOMBKEKO.  32£ 

lore — "  un  clavo  saca  otro  davo,"  and  still  more  ful \y  ill  jstrated 
by  the  poet: 

Tristezas  me  hacen  triste, 
Tristezas  salgo  a  buscar, 
A  ver  si  con  tristezas 
Tristezas  puedo  olvidar. 

Yes,  under  any  other  form,  I  should  have  welcomed  physical 
pain  as  a  neutralizer  of  my  mental  anguish  ;  but  that  cold 
norther  brought  no  consolation. 

Sadly  the  reverse.  It  was  the  harbinger  of  keen  apprehen 
sion;  for  not  only  had  it  interrupted  our  search,  but  should  the 
heavy  rain  continue  but  for  a  few  hours,  we  might  be  able 
neither-  to  find  or  further  to  follow  the  trail.  It  would  be 
blinded — obliterated — 'lost.  Can  you  wonder  that  in  my  heart 
I  execrated  those  black  clouds,  and  that  Driving  deluge  ? — that 
with  my  lips  I  cursed  the  sky  and  the  storm,  the  moon  and  the 
stars,  the  red  lightning  and  the  rolling  thunder  ? 

My  anathema  ended,  I  stood  in  sullen  silence  leaning  against 
the  body  of  my  brave  horse,  whose  sides  shivered  under  the 
chilly  rain,  though  I  felt  not  its  chill. 

Absorbed  in  gloomy  thought,  I  recked  not  what  was  passing 
around  me  ;  and  for  an  unnoted  period  I  remained  in  thia 
speechless  abstraction. 

My  reverie  was  broken.  Some  expressions  that  reached  my 
ear  told  me  that  at  least  two  of  my  followers  had  not  yielded  to 
weariness  or  despair.  Two  of  them  were  in  conversation ;  and 
I  easily  recognized  the  voices  of  the  trappers.  Tireless,  used 
to  stern  struggles — to  constant  warfare  with  the  elements,  with 
nature  herself — these  true  men  never  thought  of  giving  up, 
until  the  last  effort  of  human  ingenuity  had  failed.  From  their 
conversation,  I  gathered  that  they  had  not  yet  lost  hope  of  find 
ing  the  trail,  but  were  meditating  on  some  plan  for  recovering 
and  following  it. 

With  renewed  eagerness  I  faced  towards  them  and  listened; 


326  THE   WAB-TEAIL. 

both  talked  in  a  low  voice.     Garey  was  speaking,  as  I 
to  them. 

"  I  guess  you're  right,  Rube.  The  hoss  must  a  gone  thar,  an 
if  so,  we're  boun'  to  fetch  his  tracks.  Thar's  mud,  if  I  remem 
ber  right,  all  roun'  the  pool.  We  can  carry  the  candle  under 
Dutch's  sombrera." 

"  Ye-es,"  drawled  Rube  in  reply;  "an  ef  this  niggur  don't 
miskalk'late,  we  ain't  a  gwine  to  need  eyther  cannel  or  som- 
brairy.  Lookee  yander!" — the  speaker  pointed  to  a  break  in 
the  clouds — "  I'll  stake  high,  I  kin  mizyure  this  hyur  shower 
wi'  the  tail  o'  a  goat.  Wagh!  we'll  hev  the  moon  agin,  clur  as 
iver,  in  the  inside  o'  ten  minnits — see  ef  we  haint." 

"So  much  the  better,  old  hoss;  but  hadn't  we  best  first  try 
for  the  tracks  ?  time's  precious,  Rube  " 

"  In  coorse  it  ur;  ^it  the  cannel  an  the  sombrairy,  an  lejs  be 
off  then.  The  rest  of  these  fellurs  had  better  stay  hyur;  thu'li 
only  bamboozle  us." 

"  Lige!"  called  out  Garey,  addressing  himself  to  Quackenbosa 
— "  Lige!  gi'  us  yur  hat  a  bit." 

A  loud  snore  was  the  only  reply.  The  ranger,  seated  with 
his  back  against  the  rock,  and  his  head  drooping  over  his  breast, 
was  sound  asleep. 

"Durned  sleepyhead!"  exclaimed  Rube,  in  a  tone  of  peevish 
impatience.  "Prod  'im  wi'  the  point  o'  yur  bowie,  Bill!  Rib- 
roast  'im  wi'  yur  wipin-stick!  Lam  'im  wi'  yur  laryette! — gi' 
Mm  a  kick  i'  the  guts! — roust  'im  up,  durn  ;im!" 

"  Lige! — ho! — Dutchy!"  cried  G  arey,  approaching  the  sleeper, 
and  shaking  him  by  the  shoulder;  "  I  want  your  sombrera." 

"Ho!  wo!  stand  still!  Jingo,  he'll  throw  me.  I  can't  get 
off;  the  spurs  are  locked.  Ho!  wo!  wo!" 

Rube  and  Garey  broke  into  a  loud  cachinnation  that  awakened 
the  rest  of  the  slumberers.  Quackenboss  alone  remained  asleep, 
fighting  in  his  dreams  with  the  wild  Indian  horse. 

"Burned  mulehead!"  cried  Rube,  after  a  pause;  "let  Hm  gc 


THE   TRAIL   RECOVERED.  327 

ud  at  thet's  long's  he  likes  it.  Chuck  the  hat  off  o'  his  head, 
Bill!  we  don't  want  him — thet  we  don't." 

There  was  a  little  pique  in  the  trapper's  tone.  The  breacb 
that  the  ranger  had  made,  while  acting  as  a  faithful  sentinel; 
was  not  yet  healed. 

Garey  made  no  further  attempts  to  arouse  the  sleeper,  but  in 
obedience  to  the  order  of  his  comrade,  lifted  off  the  hat;  and, 
having  procured  one  of  the  great  candles,  he  and  Rube  started 
off  without  saying  another  word,  or  giving  any  clue  to  their 
design. 

Though  joyed  at  what  I  had  heard,  I  refrained  from  interro 
gating  them.  Some  of  my  followers  who  put  questions  received 
only  ambiguous  answers,  From  the  manner  of  the  trappers,  I 
saw  that  they  wished  to  be  left  to  themselves;  and  I  could  well 
trust  them  to  the  development  of  whatever  design  they  had  con 
ceived. 

On  leaving  us,  they  walked  straight  out  from  the  cliff;  but 
how  far  they  continued  in  this  direction  it  was  impossible  to  tell 
They  had  not  lighted  the  candle;  and'  after  going  half-a-dozen 
steps,  their  forms  disappeared  from  our  view  amidst  the  dark 
ness  and  thickly  falling  rain. 


CHAPTER     LXI. 

THE    TRAIL    RECOVERED. 

THE  rangers,  after  a  moment  of  speculation  as  to  the  designs 
of  the  trappers,  resumed  their  attitude  of  repose.  Fatigued  as 
they  were,  even  the  cold  could  not  keep  Ihem  awake. 

After  a  pause,  the  voice  of  Quackenboss  could  be  heard,  in 
proof  that  that  heavy  sleeper  was  at  length  aroused;  the  rain. 


328  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

falling  upon  his  half  bald  skull,  had  been  more  effective  than  ths 
sluuts  and  shaking  of  Garey. 

"  Hillo!  Wher'  s  my  hat  ?"  inquired  he,  in  a  mystified  tone, 
at  the  same  time  stirring  himself,  and  groping  about  among  tho 
rocks.  "  Where  is  my  hat  ?  Boys,  did  any  o'  ye  see  anything: 
o'  a  hat,  did  ye  ?"  His  shouts  again  awoke  the  sleepers 

"  What  sort  of  a  hat,  Lige  ?"  inquired  one. 

"  A  black  hat—- that  Mexican  sombrera." 

"  Oh!  a  black  hat;  no — I  saw  1,0  black  hat." 

"You  darned  Dutchman!  who  do  yon  expect  could  see  a 
black  hat  such  a  night  as  this,  or  a  white  one  eyther  ?  Go  to 
sleep!" 

"  Come  boys,  I  don't  want  none  o'  your  nonsense:  I  want  my 
hat.  Who's  got  my  hat  ?" 

"  Are  you  sure  it  was  a  black  hat  ?;> 

"Bah!  the  wind  has  carried  it  away." 

"  Pe  gar!  Monsieur  Quack'bosh — votre  chapeau  grand — 
you  great  beeg  'at — est  il  perdu  ? — is  loss  ?— c'est  vrai  ?  Par 
dieu!  les  loups — ze  wolfs  have  it  carr'd  avay — have  it  mangg — 
est  ?  c'est  vrai !" 

"  None  o'  your  gibberish,  Frenchy.     Have  you  got  my  hat  ?" 

"Moi?  votre  chapeau  grand!  No,  Monsieur  Quack'bosh — 
vraiment  je  ne  1'ai  pas;  pe  gar,  no!" 

"  Have  you  got  it,  Stanfield  ?"  asked  the  botanist,  addressing 
himself  to  a  Kentucky  backwoodsman  of  that  name. 

"  Dang  yer  hat!  What  shed  I  do  wi'  yer  hat?  I've  got  my 
own  hat,  and  that's  hat  enough  for  me." 

"  Have  you  my  hat,  Bill  Black  ?" 

"No,"  was  the  prompt  reply;  "I've  got  neery  hat  but  my 
own,  and  that  ain't  black,  I  reckon,  'cept  sich  a  night  as  this.'7 

"I  tell  you  what,  Lige,  old  fellow!  you  lost  your  hat  while 
you  were  a  ridin'  the  mustang  just  now;  the  boss  kicked  it  off  o' 
your  head." 

A  chorus  of  laughter  followed  this  sally,  in  the  midst  of  whict 


THE   TRAIL    RECOVERED.  329 

^nackenboss  could  be  beard  apostrophizing  both  his  hat  and  his 
comrades  in  no  very  respectful  terms.  He  continued  to  scram 
ble  over  the  ground  in  vain  search  after  the  lost  sombrero, 
amidst  the  jokes  and  laughter,  uttered  at  his  expense. 

To  this  merriment  of  my  followers  I  gave  but  little  heed;  my 
thoughts  were  intent  on  other  things.  My  eyes  were  fixed  upon 
that  bright  spot  in  the  sky,  that  had  been  pointed  out  by  Rube; 
and  my  heart  gladdened,  as  I  perceived  that  it  was  every  mo 
ment  growing  brighter  and  bigger.  The  rain  still  fell  thick 
and  fast;  but  the  edge  of  the  cloud-curtain  was  slowly  rising 
above  the  eastern  horizon,  as  though  drawn  up  bv  some  invisible 
hand.  Should  the  movement  continue,  I  felt  confident  that  in 
a  few  minutes — as  Rube  had  predicted — the  sky  would  be  clear 
again,  and  the  moon  shining  brightly  as  ever.  These  were  joy 
ous  anticipations. 

At  intervals  I  glanced  toward  the  prairie,  and  I  listened  to 
catch  some  sound — either  the  voices  of  the  trappers,  or  the 
tread  of  their  returning  footsteps.  No  such  sounds  could  be 
heard. 

I  was  becoming  impatient,  when  I  perceived  a  sudden  waif 
of  light  far  out  upon  the  plain.  It  seemed  to  be  again  extin 
guished,  but  in  the  same  place,  and  the  moment  after,  appeared 
a  small,  steady  flame,  twinkling  like  a  solitary  star  through  the 
bluish  mist  of  the  rain.  For  a  few  seconds  it  remained  fixed, 
and  then  commenced  moving — as  if  carried  low  down  along  the 
surface  of  the  ground. 

There  was  nothing  mysterious  about  this  lone  light.  To 
Quackenboss  Nonly  it  remained  an  unexplained  apparition  ;  and 
he  might  have  mistaken  it  for  the  fata  morgana.  The  others 
had  been  awake  when  Rube  and  Garey  took  their  departure, 
and  easily  recognised  the  lighted  candle  in  the  hands  of  the 
trappers. 

For  some  time  the  light  appeared  to  move  backwards  and  for- 
wai"is,  turning  at  short  distances,  or  as  if  forne  in  irregular 


330  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

circles,  or  in  zigzag  lines.  We  could  perceive  'the  sheen  of  water 
between  us  and  the  flame,  as  though  there  was  a  pond,  01  per 
haps  a  portion  of  the  prairie,  flooded  by  the  rain. 

After  a  while  the  light  became  fixed,  and  a  sharp  exclamation 
was  heard  across  the  plain,  which  all  of  us  recognized  as  being 
in  the  voice  of  the  trapper  Rube.  Again  the  light  was  IP 
motion — now  flitting  along  more  rapidly,  as  if  carried  in  a 
straight  line  across  the  prairie. 

We  followed  it  with  eager  eyes.  We  saw  it  was  moving  fur 
ther  and  further  away  ;  and  my  companions  hazarded  the  con 
jecture  that  the  trappers  had  recovered  the  trail. 

This  was  soon  verified  by  one  of  themselves — Garey — ^whose 
huge  form,  looming  through  the  mist,  was  seen  approaching  the 
spot  ;  and  thotigh  the  expression  of  his  face  could  not  be  noted 
in  the  darkness,  his  bearing  betokened  that  he  brought  cheerful 
tidings. 

"  Rube's  struck  the  trail,  capt'n,"  said  he  in  a  quiet  voice,  as 
he  came  up  :  "  yonder  he  goes,  whar  you  see  the  bleeze  o1  the 
cannel  I  He'll  soon  be  out  o'  sight,  if  we  don't  make  haste,  an 
follow.'7 

Without  another  word  we  seized  the  reins,  sprang  once  mory 
into  our  saddles,  and  rode  off  after  the  twinkling  star,  that  bea 
coned  us  across  the  plain. 

Rube  was  soon  overtaken,  and  we  perceived  that,  despite  the 
storm,  he  was  rapidly  progressing  along  the  trail,  his  candle 
sheltered  from  the  rain  under  the  ample  sombrero. 

In  answer  to  numerous  queries,  the  old  trapper  vouchsafed 
only  an  occasional  "  Wagh,"  evidently  proud  of  this  new  exhibi 
tion  of  his  skill.  With  Garey,  the  curious  succeeded  better; 
and  as  we  continued  on,  the  latter  explained  to  them  how  the 
trail  had  been  recovered  by  his  comrade — for  to  Itube,  it  ap 
peared,  was  the  credit  due. 

Rube  remembered  the  mesa  spring.  It  was  the  water  in  its 
branch  that  we  had  seen  gleaming  under  the  light.  The  thought 


THE   TRAIL   RECOVERED.  331 

ful  trapper  conjectured,  and  rightly  as  it  proved,  that  the  steed 
would  stop  there  to  drink.  He  had  passed  along  the  stony 
shingle  by  the  mound — simply  because  around  the  cliff  lay  hia 
nearest  way  to  the  water — and  had  followed  a  dry  ridge  that 
led  directly  from  the  mesa  to  the  spring  branch.  Along  this 
ridge,  going  gently  at  the  time,  his  hoof  had  left  no  marks — at 
least  none  that  could  be  distinguished  by  torch-light,  and  ihis 
was  why  the  trail  had  been  for  the  moment  lost.  Rube,  how 
ever,  remembered  that  around  the  spring  there  was  a  tract  of 
soft,  boggy  ground  j  and  he  anticipated  that  in  this  the  hoof 
prints  would  leave  a  deep  impression.  To  find  them  he  needed 
only  a  "  kiver"  for  the  candle,  and  the  huge  hat  of  Quuckenboss 
offered  the  very  thing.  An  umbrella  would  scarcely  have  been 
better  for  his  purpose. 

As  the  trappers  had  conjectured,  they  found  the  tracks  in  the 
muddy  margin  of  the  spring-branch.  The  steed  had  drunk  at 
the  pool  ;  but  immediately  after  had  resumed  his  wild  flight, 
going  westward  from  the  mound. 

Why  had  he  gone  off  at  a  gallop  ?  Had  he  been  alarmed  by 
aught  ?  Or  had  he  taken  fresh  affright  at  the  strange  rider 
upon  his  back  ? 

I  questioned  Garey.  I  saw  that  he  knew  why.  He  needed 
pressing  for  the  answer. 

He  gave  it  at  length,  but  with  evident  reluctance. 

"  Thar  are  wolf-traces  on  the  rail.*' 


332  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 


CHAPTER  LXII. 

WOLVES     ON     THE     TRACK. 

THE  wohes,  then,  were  after  him  ! 

The  trackers  had  made  out  their  footprints  in  the  mud  of  the 
arroyo.  Both  kinds  had  been  there — the  large  brown  wolf  of 
Texas,  and  the  small  barking  coyote,  of  the  plains — a  full  pack 
there  had  been,  as  the  trappers  could  tell  by  the  numerous 
tracks.  That  they  were  following  the  horse,  the  tracks  also 
testified  to  these  men  of  strange  intelligence.  How  knew  they 
this  ?  By  what  sign  ? 

To  my  inquiries,  I  obtained  answer  from  Garey. 

Above  the  spring  branch  extended  a  shelving  bank  ;  up  this 
the  steed  had  bounded,  after  drinking  at  the  pool.  Up  this, 
too,  the  wolves  had  sprung  after  :  they  had  left  the  indentation 
of  their  claws  in  the  soft  loam. 

How  knew  Garey  that  they  were  in  pursuit  of  the  horse  ? 

The  "  scratches  "  told  him  they  were  going  at  their  fastest,  a;id 
they  would  not  have  sprung  so  far  had  they  not  been  pursuing 
some  prey.  There  were  footmarks  of  no  other  animal  except 
theirs  and  the  hoof-prints  of  the  steed  ;  and  that  they  were 
after  him  was  evident  to  the  trapper,  because  the  tracks  of  the 
wolves  covered  those  of  the  horse. 

Garey  had  no  mere  doubt  of  the  correctness  of  his  reasoning 
than  a  geometrician  of  the  truth  of  a  theorem  in  Euclid. 

I  groaned  in  spirit  as  I  was  forced  to  adopt  his  conclusion. 
But  it  was  all  probable — too  probable.  Had  the  steed  been 
alone — unembarrassed — free — it  was  not  likely  the  wolves  would 
have  chased  him  thus.  The  wild  horse  in  '  is  prime  is  rarely  the 


WOLVES  ON  THE  TRACK.  333 

object  of  their  attack — though  the  old  and  infirm,  the  gravid 
mare,  and  the  feeble  colt,  often  fall  before  these  hungry  hunters 
of  the  plains.  Both  common  wolf  and  coyote  possess  all  the 
astuteness  of  the  fox,  and  know,  as  if  by  instinct,  the  animal 
that  is  wounded  to  death.  They  will  follow  the  stricken  deer 
that  has  escaped  from  the  hunter  ;  but  if  it  prove  to  be  but 
slightly  harmed,  instinctively  they  abandon  the  chase. 

Their  instinct  had  told  them  that  the  steed  was  not  ridden  by 
a  free  hand  ;  they  had  seen  that  there  was  something  amiss  ;  and 
in  the  hope  of  running  down  both  horse  and  rider,  they  had  fol 
lowed  with  hungry  howl. 

Another  fact  lent  probability  to  this  painful  conjecture  :  we 
knew  that  by  the  mesa  were  many  wolves. 

The  spring  was  the  constant  resort  of  ruminant  animals,  deer 
and  antelopes  ;  the  half-wild  cattle  of  the  ganaderos  drank  there, 
and  the  tottering  calf  oft  became  the  prey  of  the  coyote  and  his 
more  powerful  congener,  the  gaunt  Texan  wolf.  There  was  still 
another  reason  why  the  place  must  of  late  have  been  the  favor 
ite  prowl  of  these  hideous  brutes  :  the  debris  of  our  skirmish 
had  furnished  them  with  many  a  midnight  banquet.  They  had 
ravened  upon  the  blood  of  men  and  the  flesh  of  horses,  and  they 
hungered  for  more. 

That  they  might  succeed  in  running  down  the  steed,  cumbered 
as  he  was,  was  probable  enough.  Sooner  or  later  they  would 
overtake  him.  It  might  be  after  a  long,  long  gallop  over  hill 
and  dale,  through  swamp  and  chaparral  :  but  still  it  was  pro 
bable  those  tough,  tireless  pursuers  would  overtake  him.  They 
would  launch  themselves  upon  his  fianks ;  they  would  seize  upon 
his  wearied  limbs — upon  hers,  the  helpless  victim  upon  his  back  : 
both  horse  and  rider  would  be  dragged  to  the  earth — both  torn 
— parted  io  pieces — devoured  ! 

I  groaned  under  the  horrid  apprehension. 

"  Look  thar  !"  said  Garey,  pointing  to  the  ground,  and  hold 
ing:  his  torch  so  as  to  illuminate  the  surface ;  "  the  boss  has 


334  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

made  a  slip  thar.  See  I  hyar's  the  track  o'  the  big  wolf — he  has 
sprung  up  jest  hyar  ;  I  can  tell  by  the  scratch  o'  his  hind-claws." 

I  examined  the  "sign."  Even  to  my  eyes  it  was  readable, 
and  just  as  Garey  had  interpreted  it.  There  were  other  tracks 
of  wolves  on  the  damp  soil,  but  one  had  certainly  launched  him 
self  forward,  in  a  loug  leap,  as  though  in  an  effort  to  fasten 
himself  upon  the  flanks  of  some  animal.  The  hoof-mark  plainly 
showed  that  the  steed  had  slipped  as  he  sprang  over  the  wet 
ground  ;  and  this  had  tempted  the  spring  of  the  watchful  pursuer. 

We  hurried  on.  Our  excited  feelings  hindered  us  from  paus 
ing  longer  than  a  moment.  Both  rangers  and  trappers  shared 
my  eagerness,  as  well  as  my  apprehensions.  Past  as  the  torches 
could  be  carried,  we  hurried  on. 

Shortly  after  parting  from  the  mesa,  there  occurred  a  change 
in  our  favor.  The  lights  had  been  carried  under  hats  to  pro 
tect  them  from  the  rain.  This  precaution  was  no  longer  requir 
ed.  The  storm  had  passed — the  shower  ceasing  as  suddenly  as 
it  had  come  on  ;  the  clouds  were  fast  driving  from  the  face  01 
the  firmament.  In  five  minutes  more,  the  moon  would  shine 
forth.  Already  her  refracted  rays  lightened  the  prairie. 

We  did  not  stay  for  her  full  beam  ;  time  was  too  precious. 
Still  trusting  to  the  torches,  we  hurried  on. 

The  beautiful  queen  of  the  night  kept  her  promise.  In  five 
minutes,  her  cheering  orb  shot  out  beyond  the  margin  of  the 
dark  pall  that  had  hitherto  shrouded  it,  and  her  white  disc,  as 
if  purified  by  the  storm,  shone  with  unwonted  brightness.  The 
ground  became  conspicuous  almost  as  in  the  day  ;  the  torches 
were  extinguished,  and  we  followed  the  trail  more  rapidly  by  the 
light  of  the  moon. 

Here,  still  in  full  gallop,  had  passed  the  wild  horse,  and  for 
miles  beyond — still  had  he  gone  at  utmost  speed.  Still  close 
upon  his  heels  had  followed  the  ravenous  and  untiring  wolves 
Here  and  there  were  the  prints  of  th«*ir  clawed  feet — the  signs 
of  their  unflagging  pursuit. 


ACROSS   THE   TORRENT.  335 

The  roar  of  water  sounded  in  our  ears  :  it  came  from  the  di 
rection  in  which  the  trail  was  conducting  us  ;  a  stream  was  not 
far  distant. 

We  soon  diminished  the  distance.  A  glassy  sheet  glistened 
under  the  moonlight.  And  towards  this  the  trail  tended  in  a 
straight  line. 

It  was  a  river — a  cataract  was  near,  down  whicn  the  water, 
freshened  by  the  late  rain,  came  tumbling,  broken  by  the  rocks 
into  hummocks  of  white  foam.  Under  the  moonlight,  it  ap 
peared  like  an  avalanche  of  snow.  The  trappers  recognized  an 
affluent  of  the  Rio  Bravo,  running  from  the  north — from  the  high 
steppe  of  the  Llano  Estacado. 

We  hurried  forward  to  its  bank,  and  opposite  the  frothing 
rapids.  The  trail  conducted  us  to  this  point — to  the  very  edge 
of  the  foaming  water.  It  led  no  further.  There  were  the  hoof- 
marks  forward  to  the  brink,  but  not  back.  The  horse  had 
plunged  into  the  torrent. 


CHAPTER    L.XIII. 

ACROSS   THE    TORRENT. 

SURELY  was  it  so.  Into  that  seething  rapid  the  steed  had 
launched  himself — where  the  spume  was  whitest,  and  the  rocks 
gave  out  their  hoarsest  echoes.  The  four  hoof-prints,  close  to 
gether  upon  the  bank,  showed  the  point  from  which  he  had 
sprung,  and  the  deeply  indented  turf  testified  that  he  had  made 
no  timid  leap.  The  pursuers  had  been  close  upon  his  heels, 
and  he  had  flung  himself  with  desperate  plunge  upon  the  water 

Had  he  succeeded  in  crossing  ?  It  was  our  first  thought.  It 
appeared  improbable — impossible.  Notwithstanding  its  foam 


336  THE   WAlt-TBAIL. 

bedappled  surface,  the  current  was  swift,  and  looked  as  thousrb 
it  would  sweep  either  man  or  horse  from  his  footing.  Surely  it 
was  too  deep  to  be  forded.  Though  here  and  there  rocks  were 
seen  above  thp  surface,  they  were  but  the  crests  of  large 
boulders,  and  between  them  the  impetuous  wave  ran  dark  and 
deep.  Had  the  horse  lost  footing  ?  had  he  been  forced  to  swim  ? 
If  so,  he  must  have  been  carried  with  the  current — his  body 
submerged — his  withers  sunk  below  the  surface — his  helpless 
rider 

The  conclusion  was  evident  to  all  of  us.  All  felt  the  convic 
tion  simultaneously.  No — not  all.  There  came  a  word  of  com 
fort  from  the  oldest  and  wisest — a  word  that  gave  cheer  to  my 
drooping  spirit. 

"  Wagh  !  the  hoss  hain't  swum  a  lick  he,  hain't." 

"  Are  you  sure,  Uube  ?  How  can  you  tell  ?"  were  the  quick 
interrogatories. 

"  Sure — how  kin  I  tell — i'deed,  how,"  replied  Rube,  a  little 
nettled  at  our  having  questioned  his  judgment.  "What  the 
devul's  yur  eyes  good  for — all  o'  yur  ?  Lookee,  hyur  !  and  I'll 
show  ee  how  I  tell.  Do'ee  see  the  color  o'  thet  water  ? — it  ur 
as  brown  as  a  buffler  in  the  Fall  ;  thurfor  its  fresh  kirn  down  ; 
and  jest  afore  the  shower,  thur  want  more'n  half  o'  it  in  the  chan 
nel.  Then  the  hoss  mout  a  waded  'crosst  hyur,  easy  as  fallin  off 
a  log,  and  then  the  hoss  did  wade  acrosst." 

"  He  crossed  before  the  rain  ?" 

14  Shure  as  a  shot  from  Targuts.  Look  at  the  tracks  !  Them 
wur  made  afore  a  drop  o'  rain  kim  down  :  ef  they  hedn't,  they'd 
been  a  durned  sight  deeper  in  the  sod.  Wagh  !  the  hoss  got 
safe  acrosst  'ithout  wettin  a  hair  o'  his  hips.  So  far  as  drown- 
din'  goes,  don't  be  s*keeart  'bout  thet,  young  fellur  !  the  gui-r? 
safe  enough  yif." 

"  And  the  wolves  ?  Do  you  think  they  have  followed  acros* 
the  stream  ?" 

"  Ne'er  a  wolf  o'  'hem— ne'er  a  one— the  vamints  hed  more 


ACKOSS    THE    TORRENT.  337 

sense.  TLey  knowd  thur  legs  wan't  long  enough,  an  thet  ur 
current  wud  a  swep  'em  a  mile  afore  they  kud  a  swum  half  way 
acrosst.  The  wolves,  they  stayed  on  this  side,  I  reck'n.  Look 
hyur — hyur's  thur  tracks.  Wagh!  thur  wur  a  wheen  o'  the 
filthy  beests.  .Geehosophat  !  the  bank  ur  paddled  like  a 
sheep-pen." 

We  bent  down  to  examine  the  ground.  Sure  enough,  it  was 
covered  with  the  tracks  of  wolves.  A  numerous  band  had  crowd 
ed  together  on  the  spot  ;  and  as  the  prints  of  their  feet  pointed 
in  all  directions,  it  was  evident  they  had  not  gone  forward,  but 
brought  to  a  stand  by  the  torrent,  had  given  up  the  chase  and 
scattered  away. 

Pray  Heaven  it  was  no  mere  conjecture  1 

With  Rube  it  was  a  belief ;  and  as  I  had  grown  to  put  im 
plicit  reliance  in  the  old  trapper's  wood-craft,  I  felt  reassured. 
Rube's  opinions,  both  as  to  the  steed  having  safely  crossed  and 
the  discomfiture  of  the  wolves,  were  shared  by  the  rest  of  my 
followers — not  one  of  whom  was  a  mean  authority  on  such  a 
subject.  Garey — second  only  to  his  older  comrade  in  the  work 
ing  out  of  a  prairie  syllogism — gave  Rube's  statement  his  em 
phatic  confirmation.  The  steed  was  yet  safe — perhaps,  too,  the 
rider. 

With  lighter  heart  I  sprang  back  into  the  saddle.  My  fol 
lowers  imitated  the  example,  and  with  eyes  scanning  the  stream, 
we  rode  along  the  bank  to  seek  for  a  crossing. 

There  was  no  ford  near  the  spot.  Perhaps  where  the  steed 
bad  passed  over  the  stream  might  have  been  waded  at  low- 
water;  but  now,  during  the  freshet,  the  current  would  have 
swept  off  horse  and  man  like  so  much  cork-wood.  The  rocks — 
the  black  waves  that  rushed  between  them — the  boiling,  froth 
ing  eddies — discouraged  any  attempt  at  crossing  there;  we  all 
saw  that  it  was  impracticable. 

Some  rode  up  stream,  others  went  in  the  opposite  direc 
tion. 

15 


THE   WAK-TKAIL. 

Both  parties  met  again  with  blank  looks ;  neither  had  fou:»d 
a  crossing. 

There  was  110  time  to  search  further — at  least  my  impatience 
would  no  longer  brook  delay.  It  was  not  the  first  time  for 
both  my  horse  and  myself  to  cross  a  river  without  ford;  nor 
was  it  the  first  time  for  many  of  my  followers. 

Below  the  rapids,  the  current  ran  slow,  apparently  ceasing. 
The  water  was  still,  though  wider  from  bank  to  bank — a  hun 
dred  yards  or  more.  By  the  aid  of  the  moonlight,  I  could  tell 
that  the  bank  on  the  opposite  side  was  low  and  shelving.  It 
could  be  easily  climbed  by  a  horse. 

I  stayed  to  reason  no  further.  Many  a  hundred  yards  had 
Moro  swum  with  his  rider  on  his  back — many  a  current  had 
he  cleft  with  his  proud  breast  many  times  more  rapid  than 
that. 

I  headed  him  to  the  bank,  gave  him  the  spur,  arid  went 
plunging  into  the  flood. 

Plunge — plunge — plunge!  I  heard  behind  my  back  till  the 
last  of  my  followers  had  launched  themselves  on  the  wave,  and 
were  swimming  silently  over. 

One  after  another  we  reached  the  opposite  side,  and  ascended 
the  bank. 

Hurriedly  I  counted  our  number  as  the  men  rode  out;  one 
had  not  yet  arrived!  Who  was  missing  ?  v 

"  Rube,"  answered  some  one. 

I  glanced  back,  but  without  feeling  any  uneasiness.  I  had 
lo  fear  for  the  trapper;  Garey  alleged  he  was  "safe  to  turn 
up."  Something  had  detained  him.  Could  his  old  m^re 
swim  ? 

"Like  a  mink,"  replied  Garey;  *'  uut  Rube  won't  ride  her 
across;  he's  affeerd  to  sink  her  too  deep  in  the  water.  Seel 
yonder  he  comes!" 

Near  the  middle  of  the  stream,  two  faces  were  observed  rip 
pling  the  wave,  one  directly  in  the  wake  of  the  other.  The 


ACEOSS   THE   TORRENT.  339 

foremost  was  the  grizzled  front  of  the  old  mustang,  the  other 
the  unmistakable  physiognomy  of  her  master.  The  moonlight 
shining  upon  both  rendered  them  conspicuous  above  the  dark 
brown  water;  and  the  spectacle  drew  a  laugh  from  those  who 
had  reached  the  bank. 

Rube's  mode  of  crossing  was  unique,  like  every  action  of  this 
singular  man.  Perhaps  he  adopted  it  from  sheer  eccentricity, 
or  maybe  in  order  that  his  mustang  might  swim  more  freely. 

He  had  ridden  gently  into  the  water,  and  kept  his  saddle  till 
the  mare  was  beyond  her  depth — then  sliding  backward  over 
her  hips,  he  took  the  tail  in  his  teeth,  and  partly  towed  like  a 
fish  upon  the  hook,  and  partly  striking  to  assist  in  the  passage, 
he  swam  after.  As  soon  as  the  mare  again  touched  bottom,  he 
drew  himself  up  over  the  croup,  and  in  this  way  regained  his 
saddle. 

Mare  and  man,  as  they  climbed 'out  on  the  bank — the  thin 
skeleton  bodies  of  both  reduced  to  their  slenderest  dimensions 
by  the  soaking  water — presented  a  spectacle  so  ludicrous  as  to 
elicit  a  fresh  chorus  of  laughter  from  his  comrades. 

I  stayed  not  till  its  echoes  had  died  away;  but  pressing  my 
steed  along  the  bank,  soon  arrived  at  the  rapids,  where  I  ex 
pected  to  recover  the  trail.  To  my  joy,  hoof-marks  were  there, 
directly  opposite  the  point  where  the  steed  had  taken  to  the 
stream.  He  must  have  waded  then. 

Thank  Heaven!  at  least  from  that  peril  has  she  been  «-avedI 


34.0  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 


CHAPTER  LXIV. 

A     LILLIPUTIAN     FOREST. 

UN  resuming  the  trail,  I  moved  with  lighter  spirit  I  h.%d 
three  sources  of  gratulation.  Tht  peril  of  the  flood  was  past 
— she  was  not  drowned.  The  wolves  were  thrown  off — the 
dangerous  rapid  had  deterred  them  ;  on  the  other  side  their 
footprints  were  no  longer  found.  Thirdly,  the  steed  had  slack 
ened  his  pace.  After  climbing  the  bank,  he  had  set  off  in  a 
rapid  gait,  but  not  at  a  gallop. 

"  He's  been  pacin'  hyar  !"  remarked  Garey  as  soon  as  his 
eyes  rested  upon  the  tracks. 

"Pacing?" 

I  knew  what  was  meant  by  this  ;  I  knew  that  gait  peculiar 
to  the  prairie-horse,  fast  but  smooth  as  the  amble  of  a  palfrey. 
His  rider  would  scarcely  perceive  the  gentle  movement ;  her 
torture  would  be  less. 

Perhaps,  too,  no  longer  frighted  by  the  fierce  pursuers,  the 
horse  would  come  to  a  stop.  His  wearied  limbs  would  ad 
monish  him,  and  then .  Surely  he  could  not  have  gone 

much  further  ? 

We,  too,  were  wearied  one  and  all  ;  but  these  pleasing  con 
jectures  beguiled  us  from  thinking  of  our  toil,  and  we  advanced 
more  cheerfully  along  the  trail. 

Alas  !  it  was  my  fate  to  be  the  victim  of  alternate  hopes  and 
fears.  My  new-sprung  joy  was  short-lived,  and  fast  fleeted  away. 

We  had  gone  but  a  few  hundred  paces  from  the  river,  when 
we  encountered  an  obstacle,  that  proved  not  only  a  serious 
barrier  to  our  progress,  but  almost  brought  our  tracking  to  a 
termination. 


A    LILLIPUTIAN    FOREST.  34:1 

This  obstacle  was  a  forest  of  oaks,  not  giant  oaks,  as  these 
famed  trees  are  usually  designated,  but  the  very  reverse — a 
forest  of  dwarf  oaks  (Quercus  ncma).  Far  as  the  eye  could 
reach  extended  this  singular  wood,  in  which  no  tree  rose  above 
thirty  inches  in  height  1  Yet  was  it  no  thicket — no  under 
growth  of  shrubs — but  a  true  forest  of  oaks,  each  tree  having 
its  separate  stem,  its  boughs,  its  lobed  leaves,  and  its  bunches 
of  brown  acorns. 

"  Shin  oak,"  cried  the  trappers,  as  we  entered  the  verg£  of 
this  miniature  forest. 

"  Wagh  !"  exclaimed  Rube,  in  a  tone  of  impatience,  "  hyur's 
bother.  'Ee  may  all  get  out  o'  yur  saddles  and  rest  yur  crit 
ters  :  we'll  hev  to  crawl  hyur." 

And  so  it  resulted.  For  long  weary  hours  we  followed  the 
trail,  going  not  faster  than  we  could  have  crawled  upon  our 
hands  and  knees.  The  tracks  of  the  steed  were  plain  enough, 
and  in  daylight  could  have  been  easily  followed  :  but  the  little 
oaks  grew  close  and  regular  as  if  planted  by  the  hand  of  man  ; 
and  through  their  thick  foliage  the  moonlight  scarcely  pene 
trated.  Their  boughs  almost  touched  each  other,  so  that  the 
whole  surface  lay  in  dark  shadow,  rendering  it  almost  impossible 
to  make  out  the  hoof-prints.  Here  and  there,  a  broken  branch 
or  a  bunch  of  tossed  leaves — their  under  sides  shining-glaucous 
in  the  moonlight — enabled  us  to  advance  at  a  quicker  rate  ; 
but  as  the  horse  had  passed  gently  over  the  ground,  these 
"signs"  were  few  and  far  between. 

For  long  fretful  hours,  we  toiled  through  the  "shin- oak" 
forest,  our  heads  far  overtopping  its  tallest  trees  !  We  might 
have  fancied  that  we  were  threading  our  way  through  some 
extended  nursery.  The  trail  led  directly  across  its  central  part; 
and  ere  we  had  reached  its  furthest  verge,  the  moon's  rays  were 
mingling  with  the  purple  light  of  morning. 

Soon  after  the  '  forest  opened  f  the  little  dwarfs  grew  further 
apart — here  scattered  thinly  over  the  ground,  there  disposed  io 


34:2  THE  WAR-TRAIL. 

clumps  or  miniature  groves — until  at  length  the  sward  of  the 
prairie  predominated. 

The  trouble  of  the  trackers  was  at  an  end.  The  welcome 
light  of  the  sun  was  thrown  upon  the  trail,  so  that  they  could 
lift  it  as  fast  as  we  could  ride;  and,  no  longer  hindered  by  brake 
or  bush,  we  advanced  at  a  rapid  rate  across  the  prairie. 

Over  this  ground  the  steed  had  also  passed  rapidly.  He  had 
continued  to  pace  for  some  distance,  after  emerging  from  the 
shin^oak  forest  ;  but  all  at  once,  as  we  could  tell  by  his  tracks, 
he  had  bounded  off  again,  and  resumed  his  headlong  gallop. 

What  had  started  him  afresh  ?  We  were  at  a  loss  to  imagine; 
even  the  prairie-men  were  puzzled. 

Had  wolves  again  attacked  him,  or  some  other  enemy  ?  No ; 
nor  one  nor  other.  It  was  a  green  prairie  over  which  he  had 
gone,  a  smooth  sward  of  mezquite  grass  ;  but  there  were  spots 
where  the  growth  was  thin — patches  nearly  bare — and  these 
were  softened  by  the  rain.  Even  the  light  paw  of  a  wolf  would 
have  impressed  itself  in  such  places,  sufficiently  to  be  detected 
by  the  lynx-eyed  men  of  the  plains.  The  horse  had  passed  since 
the  rain  had  ceased  falling.  No  wolf,  or  other  animal,  had  been 
after  him. 

Perhaps  he  had  taken  a  start  of  himself,  freshly  affrighted  at 
the  novel  mode  in  which  he  was  ridden — still  under  excitement 
from  the  rough  usage  he  had  received,  and  from  which  he  had 
not  yet  cooled  down  ;  perhaps  the  barbed  points  of  the  cohetes 
rankled  in  his  flesh,  acting  like  spurs  ;  perhaps  some  distant 
sound  had  led  him  to  fancy  the  hooting  mob,  or  the  howling 
wolves,  still  coming  at  his  heels  ;  perhaps 

An  exclamation  from  the  trackers,  who  were  riding  in  the  ad 
vance,  put  an  end  to  these  conjectures.  Both  had  pulled  up, 
and  were  pointing  to  the  ground.  No  words  were  spoken — 
none  needed.  We  all  read  with  our  eyes  an  explanation  of  the 
renewed  gallop. 

Directly  in  front  of  us,  the  sward  was  cut  and  scored  by  nurne* 


A   LILLIPUTIAN    FOREST.  34:3 

-ous  tracks.  Not  four,  but  four  hundred  hoof-prints  were  indents 
ed  in  the  turf— all  of  them  fresh  as  the  trail  we  were  following 
— and  amiflst  these  the  tracks  of  the  steed,  becoming  inter 
mingled,  were  lost  to  our  view. 

"  A  drove  of  wild  horses,7'  pronounced  the  guides  at  a  glance, 
they  were  the  tracks  of  unshod  hoofs,  though  that  would  scarcely 
have  proved  them  wild.  An  Indian  troop  might  have  ridden 
past  without  leaving  any  other  sign  ;  but  these  horses  had  not 
been  mounted,  as  the  trappers  confidently  alleged  ;  and  among 
them  were  the  hoof-marks  of  foals  and  half-grown  colts,  which 
proved  the  drove  to  be  a  caballada  of  mustangs. 

At  the  point  where  we  first  struck  their  tracks  they  had  been 
going  in  full  speed,  and  the  trail  of  the  steed  converged  until  it 
closed  with  theirs  at  an  acute  angle. 

"  Ye-es,'?  drawled  Rube,  "  I  see  how  'tis.  They've  been  skeeart 
at  the  awkurd  look  o'  the  boss,  an  hev  put  off.  See  !  thur's 
his  tracks  on  the  top  o'  all  o*  theirn  :  he's  been  running  arter 
'em.  Thur  !"  continued  the  tracker,  as  we  advanced — "  thur 
he  hez  overtuk  some  o'  'em.  See  !  thur  !  the  varmints  hev 
scattered  right  and  left !  Hyur  agin,  they've  galliped  thegither, 
some  ahint,  and  some  afore  him.  Wagh  1  I  guess  they  know 
him  now,  an  ain't  any  more  afeerd  o'  him.  See  thur  !  he's  in 
the  thick  o'  the  drove." 

Involuntarily  I  raised  my  eyes,  fancying  from  these  words 
that  the  horses  were  in  sight  ;  but  no  ;  the  speaker  was  riding 
forward,  leaning  over  in  his  saddle,  with  look  fixed  upon  the 
ground.  All  that  he  had  spoken  he  had  been  reading  from  the 
surface  of  the  prairie — from  hieroglyphics  to  me  unintelligible 
but  to  him  more  easily  interpreted  than  the  page  of  a  printed 
book. 

I  knew  that  what  he  was  saying  was  true.  The  steed  had 
galbped  after  a  drove  of  wild  horses  ;  he  had  overtaken  them  ; 
arid  at  the  point  when  we  now  were,  had  been  passing  along  i,n 
their  midst  \ 


344  THE   WAR-TRAIL 

Dark  thoughts  came  crowding  into  my  mind  at  this  discovery 
— another  shadow  across  my  heart.  I  perceived  at  once  a  new 
situation  of  peril  for  my  betrothed — new,  and  strange,  and 
awful. 

%I  saw  her  in  the  midst  of  a  troop  of  neighing  wild  horses — 
stallions  with  fiery  eyes  and  red  steaming  nostrils  ;  these  per 
haps  angry  at  the  white  steed,  and  jealous  of  his  approach  to 
the  manada  ;  in  mad  rage  rushing  upon  him  with  open  mouth 
and  yellow  glistening  teeth  ;  rearing  around  and  above  him,  and 

striking  down  with  deadly  desperate  hoof Oh,  it  was  a  horrid 

apprehension,  a  fearful  fancy'  1 

Yet,  fearful  as  it  was,  it  proved  to  be  the  exact  shadow  of  a 
reality.  As  the  mirage  refracts  distant  objects  upon  the  retina 
of  the  eye,  so  some  spiritual  mirage  must  have  thrown  upon  my 
mind  the  image  of  things  that  were  real.  Not  distant,  though 
then  unseen — not  distant  was  the  real.  Rapidly  I  ascended 
another  swell  of  the  prairie,  and  from  its  crest  beheld  almost  the 
counterpart  of  the  terrible  scene  that  my  imagination  had  con 
jured  up  ! 

Was  it  a  dream  ?  was  it  still  fancy  that  was  cheating  my 
eyes  ?  No  ;  there  was  the  wild-horse  drove  ;  there  the  rearing, 
screaming  stallions  ;  there  the  white  steed  in  their  midst — he  too 
rearing  erect — there  upon  his  back 

"  0  God,  look  down  in  mercy — save  her  1  save  her  I" 


CHAPTER   LXV. 

SCATTERING      THE      WILD     STALLTQNS. 

SUCH  rude  appeal  was  wrung  from  my  lips  by  the  dread  spec 
tacle  on  which  my  eyes  rested. 

I  scarcely  waited  the  echo  of  my  words  ;  I  waited  not  the 


SCATTERING    THE   WILD   STALLIONS.  345 

counsel  of  my  comrades,  b^,  plunging  deeply  the  spur,  galloped 
down  the  hill  in  the  direction  of  the  drove. 

There  was  no  method  observed,  no  attempt  to  keep  under 
cover.  There  was  not  time  either  for  caution  or  concealmeat. 
I  acted  under  instantaneous  impulse,  and  with  but  one  thought — 
to  charge  forward,  scatter  the  stallions,  and,  if  yet  in  time,  save 
her  from  those  hurling  heels  and  fierce  glittering  teeth. 

If  yet  in  time — ay,  such  provisory  parenthesis  was  in  my  mind 
at  the  moment.  But  I  drew  hope  from  observing  that  the  steed 
kept  a  ring  cleared  around  him  :  his  assailants  only  threatened 
at  a  distance. 

Had  he  been  alone,  I  might  have  acted  with  more  caution, 
and  perhaps  have  thought  of  some  stratagem  to  capture  him. 
As  it  was,  stratagem  was  out  of  the  question;  the  circumstances 
required  speed. 

Both  trappers  and  rangers,  acting  under  like  impulse  with 
myself,  had  spurred  their  horses  into  a  gallop,  and  followed  close 
at  my  heels. 

The  drove  was  yet  distant.  The  wind  blew  from  them — a 
brisk  breeze.  We  were  half  way  down  the  hill,  and  still  the 
wild  horses  neither  heard,  saw,  "nor  scented  us. 

I  shouted  at  the  top  of  my  voice  :  I  wished  to  startle  and  put 
them  to  flight.  My  followers  shouted  in  chorus  ;  but  our  voice? 
reached  not  the  quarrelling  caballada. 

A  better  expedient  suggested  itself :  I  drew  my  pistol  from  its 
holster,  and  fired  several  shots  in  the  air. 

The  first  would  have  been  sufficient.  Its  report  was  heard, 
despite  the  opposing  wind  ;  and  the  mustangs,  affrighted  by  the 
sound,  suddenly  forsook  the  encounter.  Some  bounded  away  at 
once  ;  others  came  wheeling  around  us,  snorting  nercely,  and 
tossing  their  heads  in  the  air  ;  a  few  galloped  almost  within 
range  of  our  rifles,  and  then  uttering  their  shrill  neighing,  turned 
and  broke  off  in  rapid  flight.  The  steed  and  his  rider  alone 
remained,  where  we  had  first  observed  them  ! 

15* 


346  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

For  some  moments  he  kept  the  ground,  as  if  bewildered  by 
the  sudden  scattering  of  his  assailants  ;  but  he  too  must  have 
heard  the  shots,  and  perhaps  alone  divined  something  of  what 
had  caused  those  singular  noises.  In  the  loud  concussion,  he 
recognized  the  voice  of  his  greatest  enemy;  and  yet  he  stirred 
not  from  the  spot ! 

Was  he  going  to  await  our  approach  ?  Had  he  become 
tamed  ? — reconciled  to  captivity?  or  was  it  that  we  had  rescued 
him  from  his  angry  rivals — that  he  was  grateful,  and  no  longer 
feared  us  ? 

Such  odd  ideas  rushed  rapidly  through  my  mind  as  I  hurried 
forward.  I  had  begun  to  deem  it  probable  that  he  would  stay 
our  approach,  and  suffer  us  quietly  to  recapture  him.  Alas  !  I 
was  soon  undeceived.  I  was  still  a  long  way  off — many  hundred 
yards — when  I  saw  him  rear  upward,  wheel  round  upon  his  hind 
feet  as  on  a  pivot,  and  then  bound  off  in  determined  Sight. 
His  shrill  scream,  pealing  back  upon  the  breeze,  fell  upon  my 
ears  like  the  taunt  of  some  deadly  foe.  It  seemed  the  utterance 
of  mockery  and  revenge  :  mockery  at  the  impotence  of  my  pur 
suit  ;  revenge  that  I  had  once  made  him  my  captive. 

I  obeyed  the  only  impulse  I  could  have  at  such  a  moment,  and 
galloped  after,  as  fast  as  my  horse  could  go.  I  stayed  for  no 
consultation  with  my  companions  ;  I  had  already  forged  far 
ahead  of  them.  They  were  too  distant  for  speech. 

I  needed  not  their  wisdom  to  guide  me.  No  plan  required 
conception  or  deliberation  ;  the  course  was  clear  :  by  speed  only 
could  the  horse  be  taken,  and  his  rider  saved  from  destruction — 
if  yet  safe. 

Oh,  the  fearfulness  of  the  last  reflection !  the  agony  of  the  doubt ! 

It  was  not  the  hour  to  indulge  in  idle  anguish  ;  I  repressed 
the  emotion,  and  bent  myself  earnestly  upon  the  pursuit.  I 
spoke  to  my  brave  steed,  addressing  him  by  name  ;  I  urged  him 
with  hands  and  knees  ;  only  at  intervals  did  I  iuflict  the  cruel 
•teel  upon  his  ribs. 


SCATTERING   THE   WILD    STALLIONS.  34-7 

I  soon  perceived  that  he  was  flagging  ;  I  perceived  it  with 
increased  apprehension  for  the  result.  He  had  worn  his  saddle 
too  long  on  the  day  before,  and  the  wet  weary  night  had  jaded 
him.  He  had  been  over-wrought,  and  I  felt  his  weariness,  as  he 
galloped  with  feebler  stroke.  The  prairie-steed  must  have  been 
fresh  in  comparison. 

But  life  and  death  were  upon  the  issue.  Her  life — perhaps 
my  own.  I  cared  not  to  survive  her.  She  must  be  saved.  The 
spur  must  be  plied  without  remorse  :  the  steed  must  be  over 
taken,  even  if  Moro  should  die  I 

It  was  a  rolling  prairie  over  which  the  chase  led — a  surface 
that  undulated  like  the  billows  of  the  ocean.  We  galloped 
transversely  to  the  direction  of  the  "  swells,"  that  rose  one  after 
thr  other  in  rapid  succession.  Perhaps  the  rapidity  with  which 
we  vere  crossing  them  brought  them  nearer  to  each  other.  To 
me  ,here  appeared  no  level  ground  between  these  laud-billows. 
Up  ^iill  and  down  hill  in  quick  alternation  was  the  manner  of 
our  progress— a  severe  trial  upon  the  girths— a  hard  killing 
gallop  for  my  poor  horse.  But  life  and  death  were  upon  the 
issue,  and  the  spur  must  be  plied  without  remorse. 

A  long  cruel  gallop — would  it  never  come  to  an  end  ?  would 
the  steed  never  tire  ?  would  he  never  stop  ?  Surely  in  time  he 
must  become  weary  ?  Surely  Moro  was  his  equal  in  strength  as 
in  speed  ? — superior  to  him  in  both  ? 

Ah  !  the  prairie  horse  possessed  a  double  advantage — he  had 
started  fresh — he  was  on  his  native  ground. 

I  kept  my  eyes  fixed  upon  him  ;  not  for  one  moment  did  I 
withdraw  my  glance.  A  mysterious  apprehension  was  upon  me; 
I  feared  to  look  around,  lest  he  should  disappear.  The  sou 
venirs  of  the  former  chase  still  haunted  me;  weird  remembrances 
clung  to  my  spirit.  I  was  once  more  in  the  region  of  the  super 
natural. 

I  looked  neither  to  the  right  nor  left,  but  straight  before  me— 
Btraight  at  the  object  of  my  pursuit,  and  the  distance  that  lay 


34:8  THE    WAR-TKAIL. 

between  us.  This  last  I  continuously  scanned,  now  with  fresh 
hope,  and  now  again  with  doubt.  It  seemed  to  vary  with  the 
ground.  At  one  time,  I  was  nearer,  as  the  descending  slope 
gave  me  the  advantage  ;  but  the  moment  after,  the  steep  decli 
vity  retarded  the  speed  of  my  horse,  and  increased  the  interven 
ing  distance. 

It  was  with  joy  I  crossed  the  last  swell  of  the  rolling  prairie, 
and  beheld  a  level  plain  stretching  before  us.  It  was  with  joy 
I  perceived  that  upon  the  new  ground  I  was  rapidly  gaining 
upon  the  steed  ! 

And  rapidly  I  continued  to  gain  upon  him,  until  scarcely  three 
hundred  yards  were  between  us.  So  near  was  I,  that  I  could 
trace  the  outlines  of  her  form — her  prostrate  limbs — still  lashed 
to  the  croup — her  garments  loose  and  torn — her  ankles — her 
long  dark  hair,  dishevelled  and  trailing  to  the  ground — even  her 
pallid  cheek  I  could  perceive,  as  at  intervals  the  steed  tossed 
back  his  head  to  utter  his  wild  taunting  neigh. 

I  was  near  enough  to  be  heard.  I  shouted  in  my  loudest 
voice  ;  I  called  her  by  name.  I  kept  my  eyes  upon  her,  and 
with  throbbing  anxiety  listened  for  a  response.  I  fancied  that 
her  head  was  raised,  as  though  she  understood  and  would  have 
answered  me.  I  could  hear  no  voice,  but  her  feeble  cry  migbt 
have  been  drowned  by  the  clatter  of  the  hoofs. 

Again  I    called    aloud — again    and    again  pronouncing  her 
name. 

Surely  I  heard  a  cry  ;  surely  her  head  was  raised  from  the 
withers  of  the  horse.  I  could  not  be  mistaken. 

"  Thank  Heaven,  she  lives  1" 

I  had  scarcely  uttered  the  prayer,  when  I  felt  my  steed  yield 
beneath  me  as  though  he  was  sinking  into  the  bosom  of  the 
earth.  I  was  hurled  out  of  the  saddle,  and  flung  head  foremost 
upon  the  plain.  My  horse  had  broke  through  the  burrow  of 
the  prairie  marmot,  arid  the  false  step  had  brought  him  wHb 
violence  to  the  ground. 


LOST   IN    A    CHAPAKRAL.  349 

I  was  neither  stunned  nor  entangled  by  the  fall  ;  and  in  a 
few  seconds  had  regained  my  feet,  my  bridle  and  saddle.  But 
as  I  headed  my  horse  once  more  toward  the  chase,  the  white 
steed  and  his  rider  had  passed  out  of  sight. 


CHAPTER    LXVI. 

LOST   IN    A    CHAPARRAL. 

I  WAS  chagrined,  frantic,  and  despairing,  but  not  surprised 
This  time  there  was  no  mystery  about  the  disappearance  of  the 
steed  ;  the  chaparral  explained  it.  Though  I  no  longer  saw 
him,  he  was  yet  within  hearing.  His  footfall  on  the  firm  ground, 
the  occasional  snapping  of  a  dead  stick,  the  whisk  of  the  recoil 
ing  branches,  all  reached  my  ears  as  I  was  remounting. 

These  sounds  guided  me,  and  without  staying  to  follow  his 
tracks,  I  dashed  forward  to  the  edge  of  the  chaparral — at  the 
point  nearest  to  where  I  heard  him  moving.  I  did  not  pause  to 
look  for  an  opening,  but  heading  in  the  direction  from  whence 
came  the  sounds,  I  spurred  forward  into  the  thicket.  Breasting 
the  bushes  that  reached  around  his  neck,  or  bounding  over  them, 
my  brave  horse  pressed  on  ;  but  he  had  not  gone  three  lengths 
of  himself  before  I  recognized  the  imprudence  of  the  course  I 
was  pursuing  ;  I  now  saw  I  should  have  followed  the.  tracks. 

I  no  longer  heard  the  movements  of  the  steed — neither  foot- 
stroke,  nor  snapping  sticks,  nor  breaking  branches.  The  noise 
made  by  my  own  horse,  amid  the  crackling  acacias,  drowned 
every  other  sound  ;  and  so  long  as  I  kept  in  motion,  I  moved 
with  uncertainty.  It  was  only  when  I  made  stop  that  I  could 
again  hear  the  chase  struggling  through  the  thicket  ;  but  now 
the  sounds  were  faint  and  far  distant — growing"  still  fainter  as  I 
listened. 


350  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

Once  more  I  urged  forward  my  horse,  heading  him  almost 
at  random  ;  but  I  had  not  advanced  a  hundred  paces,  before 
the  misery  of  uncertainty  again  impelled  me  to  halt. 

This  time  I  listened  and  heard  nothing — not  even  the  recoil 
of  a  bough.  The  steed  had  either  stopped  and  was  standing 
silent,  or  what  was  more  probable,  had  gained  so  far  in  advance 
of  me  that  his  hoofstroke  was  out  of  hearing. 

Half  frantic,  angered  at  myself,  too  much  excited  for  cool 
reflection,  I  lanced  the  sides  of  my  horse,  and  galloped  madly 
through  the  thicket. 

I  rode  several  hundred  yards  before  drawing  bridle,  in  a  sort 
of  desperate  hope  I  might  once  more  bring  myself  within  ear 
shot  of  the  chaise. 

Again  I  halted  to  listen.  My  recklessness  proved  of  no  avail. 
Not  a  sound  reached  my  ear  ;  even  had  there  been  sounds,  I 
should  scarcely  have  heard  them  above  that  issuing  from  the 
nostrils  of  my  panting  horse;  but  sound  there  was  none.  Silent 
was  the  chaparral  around  me — silent  as  death — not  even  a  bird 
moved  among  its  branches. 

I  felt  something  like  self-execration  ;  my  imprudence  I  de 
nounced  over  and  over.  But  for  my  rash  haste,  I  might  yet 
have  been  upon  the  trail — perhaps  within  sight  of  the  object  of 
pursuit.  Where  the  steed  had  gone  surely  I  could  have  fol 
lowed.  Now  he  was  gone  I  knew  not  whither — lost — his  trail 
lost — all  lost ! 

To  recover  the  trace  of  him,  I  made  several  casts  across  the 
thicket.  I  rode  first  in  one  direction,  then  in  another,  but  all 
to  no  purpose.  I  could  find  neither  hoof-track  nor  broken  branch. 

I  next  bethought  me  of  returning  to  the  open  prairie,  there 
retaking  the  trail,  and  following  it  thence.  This  was  clearly 
the  wisest,  in  fact  the  only  course  in  which  there  was  reason 
I  should  easily  recover  the  trail,  at  the  point  where  the  horse 
had  entered  the  chaparral,  and  thence  I  might  follow  it  without 
difficulty 


L   ST   IN   A   CHAPARBAL.  851 

I  turned  my  horse  round,  and  headed  him  in  the  direction  of 
the  prairie — or  rather  in  what  I  supposed  to  be  the  direction- 
for  this  too  had  become  conjecture. 

It  was  not  till  I  had  ridden  for  a  half-hour,  for  more  thai: 
a  mile  through  glade  and  bush— toot  till  I  had  ridden  nearly 
twice  as  far  in  the  opposite  direction — and  then  to  right  and 
then  to  left — that  I  pulled  up  my  broken  horse,  dropped  the 
rein  upon  his  withers,  and  sat  bent  in  my  saddle  under  the 
full  conviction  that  I  too  was  lost  ! 

Lost  in  the  chaparral — that  parched  and  hideous  jungle, 
where  every  plant  that  carries  a  thorn  seemed  to  have  place. 
Around  grew  acacias,  mimosas,  gleditschias,  robinias,  algarobias 
— all  the  thorny  legumes  of  the  world  ;  above  towered  the 
splendid  fouquiera  with  spinous  stem  ;  there  flourished  the 
"tornillo"  (prosopis  glandulosa) ,  with  its  twisted  beans  ;  there 
the  "junco"  (koeblerinia) ,  whose  very  leaves  are  thorns.  There 
I  saw  spear-pointed  yuccas  and  clawed  bromelias  (agave  and 
irion)  ;  there,  too,  the  universal  cactacea?  (opuntia,  mam- 
iria,  cereus,  and  echinocactus)  •  even  the  very  grass  was 
thorny — for  it  was  a  species  of  the  "  mezquite  grass,"  whose 
knotted  culms  are  armed  with  sharp  spurs  ! 

Through  this  horrid  thicket  I  had  not  passed  unscathed  ;  my 
garments  were  already  torn,  my  limbs  were  bleeding  ! 

My  limbs — and  hers  ? 

Of  hers  alone  was  I  thinking  ;  those  fair  proportioned  mem 
bers — those  softly  rounded  arms — that  smooth,  delicate  skin — 
bosom  and  shoulders  bare — the  thorn — the  scratch — the  tear. 
Oh  I  it  was  agony  to  think  1 

By  action  alone  might  I  hope  to  still  my  emotions  ;  and  once 
more  rousing  myself  from  the  lethargy  of  painful  thought,  I 
nrged  my  steed  onward  through  the  bushes. 


352  THE   WAR-TRAIL 


CHAPTER  LXYII. 

ENCOUNTER     WITH     JAVALI. 

I  HAD  no  mark  to  guide  me,  either  on  the  earth  or  IL  the 
heavens.  I  had  an  indefinite  idea  that  the  chase  had  led  west 
ward,  and  therefore  to  get  back  to  the  prairie,  I  ought  to  head 
towards  the  east.  But  how  was  I  to  distinguish  east  from 
west  ?  In  the  chaparral  both  were  alike,  and  so  too  upon  the 
sky.  No  sun  was  visible  ;  the  canopy  of  heaven  was  of  a  uni 
form  leaden  color  ;  upon  its  face  were  no  signs  by  which  the 
cardinal  points  could  have  been  discovered. 

Had  I  been  in  a  forest  of  trees,  surrounded  by  a  northern 
sylva,  I  could  have  made  out  my  course.  The  oak  or  the  elm, 
the  ash-tree  or  maple,  the  beech  or  sycamore— any  of  them 
would  have  been  compass  sufficient  for  me  ;  but  in  that  thicket 
of  thorny  shrubs  I  was  completely  at  fault.  It  was  a  subtropi 
cal  flora,  or  rather  a  vegetation  of  the  arid  desert,  to  which 
I  was  almost  a  stranger.  I  knew  there  were  men  skilled  in  the 
craft  of  the  chaparral,  who,  in  the  midst  of  it,  could  tell  -.orth 
from  south  without  compass  or  star.  Not  I. 

I  could  think  of  no  better  mode  than  to  trust  to  the  guidance 
of  my  horse.  More  than  once,  when  lost  in  the  thick  forest  or 
in  the  boundless  plain,  had  I  reposed  a  similar  trust  in  his 
instincts — more  than  once  had  he  borne  me  out  Ox  my  bewilder 
ment. 

But  whither  could  he  take  me  ?  Back  to  the  path  by  which 
we  had  come  1  Probably  enough,  had  that  path  led  to  a 
home;  but  it  did  not  ;  my  poor  steed,  like  myself,  had  no  hv»tne. 
He,  too,  was  a  ranger  ;  for  years  had  been  flitting  from  place 


ENCOUNTER    WITH    JAVALI.  353 

to  place,  hundreds,  aye,  thousands  of  miles  from  each  other, 
Long  had  he  forgotten  his  native  stall. 

I  surmised  that  if  there  was  water  near,  his  instinct  might 
carry  him  to  that — and  much  needed  it  both  horse  and  rider 
Should  we  reach  a  running  stream,  it  would  serve  as  a  guide 

I  dropped  the  rein  upon  his  neck,  and  left  him  to  his  will. 

I  had  already  shouted  in  my  loudest  voice,  in  hopes  of  being 
heard  by  my  comrades  ;  by  none  other  than  them,  for  what 
could  human  being  do  in  such  a  spot,  shunned  even  by  the 
brute  creation?  The  horned  lizard  (agama  cornuta),  the  ground 
rattlesnake,  the  shell-covered  armadillo,  and  the  ever-present 
coyote,  alone  inhabit  these  dry  jungles  ;  and  now  and  then  the 
javali  (dicotyles  torquatus),  feeding  upon  the  twisted  legumes 
of  the  "  tornillo,"  passes  through  their  midst;  but  even  these  are 
rare  ;  and  the  traveller  may  ride  for  scores  of  miles  through  the 
Mexican  chaparral  without  encountering  aught  that  lives  and 
moves.  There  reigns  the  stillness  of  death.  Unless  the  wind 
be  rustling  among  the  pinnate  fronds  of  the  acacias,  or  the 
unseen  locust  utters  its  harsh  shrieking  amid  the  parched  herb 
age,  the  weary  wayfarer  may  ride  on,  cheered  by  no  other  sound 
than  his  own  voice,  or  the  footfall  of  his  horse. 

There  was  still  the  chance  that  my  followers  might  hear  me« 
I  knew  that  they  would  not  stray  from  the  trail.  Though  they 
must  have  been  far  behind  when  I  entered  the  chaparral,  follow 
ing  the  tracks  they  would  in  time  be  sure  to  come  up. 

It  was  a  question  whether  they  would  follow  mine,  or  that  of 
the  steed.  This  had  not  occurred  to  me  before,  and  I  paused  to 
consider  it.  If  the  former,  then  was  I  wrong  in  moving  onward, 
as  I  should  only  be  going  from  them,  and  leading  them  in  a 
longer  search.  Already  had  I  given  them  a  knot  to  unravel,  my 
devious  path  forming  a  labyrinthine  maze. 

It  was  more  than  probable  they  would  follow  me — in  the  be 
lief  that  I  had  some  reason  for  deviating  from  the  trail  of  the 
steed,  perhaps  for  the  purpose  of  heading  or  intercepting  him. 


S54  THE    WAR-TKAIL. 

This  conjecture  decided  me  against  advancing  further — at 
least  until  some  time  should  elapse,  enough  to  allow  them  to 
come  up  with  me. 

Out  of  compassion  for  my  hard-breathing  horse,  I  dismounted 
At  intervals,  I  shouted  aloud,  and  fired  shots  from  my  pistols  : 
after  each  I  listened  ;  but  neither  shot  nor  shout  reached  me  ir 
reply.  They  must  be  distant  indeed,  not  to  hear  the  report  of 
firearms;  for  had  they  heard  them,  they  would  have  been  certain 
to  make  answer  in  a  similar  manner.  All  of  them  carried  rifles 
and  pistols. 

I  began  to  think  it  was  time  they  should  have  reached  me. 
Again  I  fired  several  shots  ;  but,  as  before,  echo  was  the  only 
reply.  Perhaps  they  had  not  followed  me  ?  perhaps  they  had 
kept  on  upon  the  trail  of  the  steed,  and  it  might  lead  them  far 
away,  beyond  hearing  of  the  reports  ?  perhaps  there  was  not  yet 
time  for  them  to  have  arrived  ? 

While  thus  conjecturing,  my  ears  were  assailed  by  the  screech 
ing:  of  birds  at  some  distance  off.  I  recognized  the  harsh  notes 
of  the  jay,  mingling  with  the  chatter  of  the  red  cardinal. 

From  the  tone«,  I  knew  that  these  birds  were  excited  by  the 
presence  of  some  animal.  Perhaps  they  were  defending  their 
nests  against  the  black  snake  or  the  crotalus. 

It  might  be  my  followers  approaching  ?  it  might  be  the  steca 
— like  me,  still  wandering  in  the  chaparral  ? 

I  sprang  to  my  saddle  to  get  a  better  view,  and  gazed  over 
the  tops  of  the  trees.  Guided  by  the  voices  of  the  birds,  I  soon 
discovered  the  scene  of  the  commotion.  At  some  distance  off,  I 
saw  both  jays  and  cardinals  fluttering  among  the  branches, 
evidently  excited  by  something  on  the  ground  beneath  them. 
At  the  same  time  I  heard  strange  noises,  far  louder  than  the 
voices  of  the  birds,  but  could  not  tell  what  was  causing  them. 
My  spirits  sank,  for  I  knew  they  could  not  be  produced  either 
by  my  comrades  or  the  steed. 

It  was  not  far,  and  I  determined  to  satisfy  myself  as  to  what 


ENCOUNTER   WITH   JAVALI.  355 

was  causing  such  a  commotion  in  this  hitherto  silent  place.  I 
rode  towards  the  spot,  as  fast  as  my  horse  could  make  way 
through  the  bushes.  I  was  soon  satisfied. 

Coming  out  on  the  edge  of  a  little  glade,  I  became  spectator 
to  a  strange  scene — a  battle  between  the  red  cougar  and  a  band 
ofjavali. 

The  fierce  little  boars  were  "  ringing  "  the  panther,  who  was 
fighting  desperately  in  their  midst.  Several  of  them  lay  upon 
the  ground,  struck  senseless  or  dead,  by  the  strong  paws  of  the 
huge  cat ;  but  the  others,  nothing  daunted,  had  completely  sur 
rounded  their  enemy,  and  were  bounding  upon  him  with  open 
mouths,  wounding  him  with  their  sharp  shining  tusks. 

The  scene  aroused  my,  hunter  instincts,  and  suddenly  unsling- 
ing  my  rifle,  I  set  my  eye  to  the  sights.  I  had  no  hesitation 
about  the  selection  of  my  mark — the  panther,  by  all  means — 
and  drawing  trigger,  I  sent  my  bullet  through  the  creature's 
skull,  at  once  stretching  him  out  in  the  midst  of  his  assailants. 

Three  seconds  had  not  elapsed,  before  I  had  reason  to  regcet 
the  choice  I  had  made  of  a  victim.  I  should  have  let  the  cougar 
alone,  and  either  held  my  fire,  or  directed  it  upon  one  of  his 
urchin-like  enemies  ;  for  the  moment  he  was  hors  de  combat,  his 
assailants  became  mine — transferring  their  "  surround  "  to  my 
horse  and  myself,  with  all  the  savage  fierceness  they  had  just 
exhibited  towards  the  panther  ! 

I  had  no  means  of  punishing  the  ungrateful  brutes.  They 
had  not  given  me  time  to  reload  my  rifle  before  commencing  the 
attack,  and  my  pistols  were  both  empty.  My  horse,  startled 
by  the  unexpected  assault,  as  well  as  by  the  strange  creatures 
that  were  making  it,  snorted  and  plunged  wildly  over  the 
ground  ;  but  go  where  he  would,  a  score  of  the  ferocious  brutes 
followed,  springing  against  his  sides,  and  scoring  his  shanks 
with  their  terrible  tusks.  Well  for  me  I  was  able  to  keep  the 
saddle  ;  had  I  been  thrown  from  it  at  that  moment,  I  should  cer 
tainly  have  been  torn  to  pieces. 


356  THE    WAK-TKAIL. 

I  saw  no  hope  of  safety  but  in  flight,  and  spurring  my  horse, 
I  gave  him  full  rein.  Alas  I  through  that  tangled  thicket  the 
javali  could  go  as  fast  as  he  ;  and  after  galloping  a  hundred 
yards  or  so,  I  perceived  the  whole  flock  still  around  me,  leaping 
as  fiercely  as  ever  around  the  limbs  of  my  steed. 

The  result  might  have  proved  awkward  enough  ;  but  at  that 
moment  I  heard  voices,  and  saw  mounted  men  breaking  through 
the  underwood.  They  were  Stanfield,  Quackenboss,  and  the 
rest  of  the  rangers. 

In  another  second  they  were  on  the  ground  ;  and  their 
revolvers,  playing  rapidly,  soon  thinned  the  ranks  of  the  javali, 
and  caused  the  survivors  to  retreat  grunting  and  screaming  into 
the  thicket. 


CHAPTER    LXVIII. 

THE      WOODS      ON      FIRE. 

THE  trappers  were  not  among  those  who  had  rescued  me— 
ivhere  were  they  ?  The  others  made  answer,  though  I  already 
guessed  what  they  had  to  tell.  Rube  and  (Srarey  had  followed 
the  tracks  of  the  steed,  leaving  the  rangers  to  come  after  me. 

1  was  pleased  with  the  ready  intelligence  of  my  comrades  ; 
they  had  acted  exactly  as  they  should  have  done.  I  was 
myself  found,  and  I  no  longer  entertained  any  apprehension  that 
the  trail  would  be  lost. 

By  this  time,  the  trappers  must  be  far  upon  it  ;  more  than  an 
hour  had  elapsed  since  they  and  the  others  had  parted  company. 
My  zigzag  path  had  cost  my  followers  many  a  bewildering 
pause. 

But  they  had  not  ridden  recklessly  as  I,  and  could  find  their 
way  back.  As  it  was  impossible  to  tell  in  what  direction  Rube 
and  Garey  had  gone,  this  course  was  the  best  to  be  followed  ; 


THE    WOODS    ON   FJEE.  357 

and  under  the  guidance  of  Stanfield,  an  expert  woodsman,  we 
commenced  returning  to  the  prairie.  It  was  not  necessary  to 
follow  back  our  own  crooked  trail.  The  Kentuckian  had  noted 
the  "  lay"  of  the  chaparral,  and  led  us  out  of  its  labyrinths  by 
an  almost  direct  path. 

On  reaching  the  open  prairie,  we  made  no  halt  ;  but  upon  the 
tracks  of  Rube,  Garey,  and  the  steed,  once  more  entered  the 
chaparral. 

We  had  no  difficulty  about  our  course  ;  it  was  plainly  traced 
out  for  us  ;  the  trappers  had  "  blazed  "  it.  In  most  places,  the 
tracks  of  the  three  horses  were  sufficient  indices  of  the  route  ; 
but  there  were  stretches  where  the  ground  was  stony,  and  upon 
the  parched  arid  herbage,  even  the  shod  hoof  left  no  visible 
mark.  In  such  places,  a  branch  of  acacia  broken  and  pendulous, 
the  bent  flower-stem  of  an  aloe  or  the  succulent  leaves  of  the 
cactus  slashed  with  a  sharp  knife,  were  conspicuous  and  unmis 
takable  signs ;  and  by  the  guidance  of  these  we  made  rapid 
advance. 

We  must  have  gone  much  faster  than  the  trackers  themselves 
— for  notwithstanding  the  freshness  of  the  trail,  there  were  dry 
spots  and  patches  of  cut  rock  over  which  it  passed,  and  where 
it  must  have  cost  both  time  and  keen  perception  to  trace  it. 

As  we  were  travelling  so  much  more  rapidly  than  Rube  and 
Garey  could  have  done,  I  looked  forward  to  our  soon  overtaking 
them  ;  with  eager  anticipation,  I  looked  forward.  Surely  they 
would  have  some  news  for  me,  now  that  they  had  been  so  long 
in  the  advance  Surely  by  this  time  they  must  have  come 
in  sight  of  the  steed  ? — perhaps  captured  him  ?  Oh,  joyous  anti 
cipation  ! 

Or  would  they  return  with  a  different  tale  ?  Was  I  to  meet 
the  report  that  he  still  hurried  on — on  for  ever  ?  That  he  had 
swam  some  rapid  stream  ?  or  plunged  over  a  precipice — into 
some  dark  abyss  ? 

Though  hastening  on  after  the  trackers,  there  were  moment* 


358  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

wheh  I  feared  to  overtake  them — moments  when  I  dreaded 
to  hear  their  tale  ! 

We  had  worked  our  way  about  five  miles  through  tho  hideous 
jungle,  when  I  began  to  feel  a  strange  sensation  in  my  eyes — a 
sensation  of  pain — what  is  usually  termed  a  "  smarting."  I  at 
first  attributed  it  to  the  want  of  sleep.  My  companions  com 
plained  that  they  were  affected  in  a  similar  manner. 

It  was  not  until  we  had  gone  some  distance  farther,  that  we 
found  the  true  explanation,  by  perceiving  that  there  was  smoke 
upon  the  air  !  Smoke  it  was  that  was  causing  the  bitterness  in 
our  eyes. 

The  denizen  of  the  prairie  never  regards  such  an  indication 
with  indifference.  Where  there  is  smoke,  there  is  fire,  and 
where  fire,  danger — at  least,  upon  the  broad  grassy  steppes  of 
the  west.  A  burning  forest  may  be  shunned.  You  may  stand 
near  to  the  forest  on  fire,  and  contemplate  such  a  scene  with 
safety;  but  a  blazing  prairie  is  a  phenomenon  of  a  different 
character;  and  it  is,  indeed,  a  rare  position  where  you  may 
view,  without  peril,  this  sublime  spectacle. 

There  are  prairies  that  will  not  burn.  The  plains  covered 
with  the  short  "buffalo  grass"  (sederia  dactyloides) ,  and  the 
sward  of  various  species  of  "  gramma "  (chondrosium),  rarely 
take  fire,  or  if  they  do,  horse,  man,  buffalo,  or  antelope,  can 
easily  escape  by  leaping  across  the  blaze.  'Tis  only  the  reptile 
world — snakes,  lizards,  the  toad  and  the  land  turtle  (terrapin) 
— that  fall  victims  to  such  a  flame. 

Not  so  upon  the  "  weed  prairie,"  or  those  where  the  tall  reed- 
grass  rises  above  the  withers  of  a  horse — its  culms  matted  and 
laced  together  by  the  trailing  stems  of  various  species  of  bind 
weed,  by  creeping  convolvulus,  cucurbitaceae,  and  wild  pea-vines. 
In  the  dry  season,  when  a  fire  lays  its  hold  upon  vegetation  of 
this  character,  there  is  danger  indeed — where  it  rages,  there  is 
death. 

It  was  smoke  that  affected  our  eyes,  causing  them  to  smart 


THE   WOODS    ON    FIRE.  369 

and  water.  Fire  must  be  causing  the  smoke — what .  ivas  on 
fire?  I  could  detect  apprehension  in  the  looks  of  my  followers, 
*s  we  rode  on.  It  was  but  slight,  for  as  yet  the  smoke  was 
scarcely  perceptible,  and  the  fire,  wherever  it  was,  must  be  dis 
tant — so  fancied  we. 

As  we  advanced,  the  glances  of  the  men  became  more  uneasy. 
Beyond  a  doubt,  the  smoke  was  thickening  around  us — the  sky 
was  fast  becoming  darker,  arid  the  pain  in  our  eyes  more  acute. 

"  The  woods  are  on  fire,"  said  Stanfield 

Stanfield  was  a  backwoodsman,  his  thoughts  ran  upon  "  woods." 

Whether  forest  or  prairie,  a  conflagration  was  certainly  rag 
ing.  It  might  be  far  off,  for  the  wind  will  carry  the  smoke  of  a 
prairie  fire  a  long  distance;  but  I  had  an  unpleasant  suspicion 
that  it  was  not  distant.  I  noticed  dropping  around  us  the  white 
floe  of  burnt  leaves,  and  from  the  intense  bitterness  of  the 
smoke,  I  reasoned  that  it  could  not  have  floated  far — its  gases 
were  not  yet  dissipated 

It  was  not  the  distance  of  the  fire  that  so  much  troubled  me, 
as  its  direction.  The  wind  blew  right  in  our  teeth,  and  the 
smoke  was  travelling  with  the  wind.  The  conflagration  must 
be  ahead — directly  upon  the  trail! 

The  smoke  grew  thicker  and  thicker — ahead,  the  sky  appeared 
slashed  with  a  lurid  light;  I  fancied  I  could  hear  the  crack 
ling  of  the  flames.  The  air  felt  hot  and  dry:  a  choking  sensa 
tion  came  into  our  throats,  and  one  and  all  were  soon  hacking 
and  gasping  for  breath. 

So  dark  had  it  suddenly  become,  or  rather  so  blinded  were  we 
with  the  smoke,  we  could  scarcely  make  out  the  trail. 

My  followers  would  have  stopped,  but  I  urged  them  on. 
With  voice  and  example  I  urged  them  on — myself  leading  the 
way.  My  heart  was  too  sore  to  make  pause. 

Where  in  all  this  were  Kube  and  Garey?  We  had  come  far 
and  fast:  we  should  now  be  nearly  up  with  them — they  could 
not  be  much  ahead. 


360  THE   WAK-TKAIL. 

I  hallooed  as  we  advanced. 

'  Hallow!"  came  the  response,  in  the  rough  baritone  of  the 
younger  trapper. 

We  hurried  forward  in  the  direction  of  the  voice.  The  path 
conducted  to  an  opening  in  the  chaparral,  in  the  centre  of  which 
through  the  smoke,  we  could  distinguish  the  forms  of  men  and 
horses. 

With  eager  eyes,  I  scanned  the  group;  a  glance  was  sufS 
cieot;  there  were  only  two  of  each — only  the  trackers. 


CHAPTER     LXIX. 

SMOKE    AND    THIRST. 

"  AE,  Monsieur  Roob  !"  cried  the  Canadian,  as  we  hurried 
up,  "  vat  make  ce  de  la  diable  d'une  fumee — smoke  ?  Are  ze 
woods  on  fire — you  tink — eh  ?" 

"  Wuds  11>  exclaimed  Rube,  with  a  contemptuous  glance  at 
the  speaker.  "  Wagh  !  Thur's  no  wuds  hyur.  Thur's  a 
paraira  afire.  Don't  ee  smell  the  stink  o'  the  grass  ?" 

"  Pe  gai,  oui  !  vraiment — c'est  la  prairie?  You  sure,  Mon 
sieur  Roob  ?" 

"  Sure  !"  vociferated  the  trapper,  in  a  tone  of  indignation — 
"Sure!  —  ye  durned  parley-voo-eat-a-frog,  spit-a-brick,  soup- 
suckin'  Frenchman,  d'  yur  think  I  don't  know  the  smell  o'  a 
burnin' paraira  ?  Wagh!" 

"  Ah,  Monsieur  Roob,  me  pardon.  Yat  I  mean  ask — is  ze 
chaparral  bruld — on  fire — ces  arbres  ?" 

"  The  chaparral  ain't  afire/''  answered  Rube,  somewhat  molli 
fied  by  the  apology  ;  "  so  don't  be  skeeart,  Frenchy  ;  yur  safe 
enuf." 

This  assurance  seemed  to  gratify  not  only  the  timid  Canadian, 


SMOKE    AND    THIRST.  361 

but  others,  who,  up  to  this  moment,  were  apprehensive  that  it 
was  the  thicket  that  was  on  fire. 

For  myself,  I  had  no  such  fears  ;  I  perceived  that  the  cha 
parral  could  not  burn.  Here  and  there,  patches  of  dry  mezquite 
trees  would  have  caught  like  tinder  ;  but  in  most  places,  a 
succulent  endogenous  vegetation  formed  three  parts  of  the 
jungle,  and  rendered  it  "fire-proof."  This  was  especially  the 
case  around  the  glade  where  the  trappers  had  taken  their  stand, 
and  which  was  completely  inclosed  by  a  wall  of  the  great  organ 
cactus,  with  aloes,  opuntias,  and  other  juicy-leaved  plants.  In 
the  opening,  we  were  as  safe  from  the  fire  as  though  it  was 
a  hundred  miles  off  ;  we  suffered  only  from  the  smoke,  that 
now  quite  filled  the  atmosphere,  causing  a  darkness  that  rivalled 
night. 

I  had  no  apprehension  for  our  safety  ;  it  was  not  of  that  x 
was  thinking. 

To  the  hasty  dialogue  between  Rube  and  the  Canadian  I  had 
scarcely  given  heed  ;  Garey  had  advanced  to  meet  me,  and  I 
listened  with  anxious  ear  to  the  tale  of  the  tracker. 

It  was  soon  told.  IluSI  and  he  had  followed  the  trail,  until 
it  emerged  from  the  chaparral,  and  struck  out  into  a  wide  grass- 
prairie.  The  edge  of  the  thicket  was  close  by;  but  they  had 
gone  a  considerable  distance  beyond  it  and  across  the  plain. 
They  were  still  advancing,  when,  to  their  consternation,  they 
perceived  that  the  prairie  was  on  fire  directly  ahead  of  them  ! 
The  wind  was  rolling  both  smoke  and  flames  before  it  with  the 
rapidity  of  a  running  horse,  and  it  was  with  difficulty  they 
escaped  from  it  by  galloping  back  to  the  chaparral. 

And  the  ste  d — what  had  become  of  him  ?  Had  they  seen 
nothing  ? 

I  did  not  put  these  questions  in  words — only  in  thought  did  I 
ask  them  :  and  in  thought  only  were  they  answered.  Both  the 
trackers  were  silent,  and  that  was  an  answer  in  the  negative ; 
yes,  I  read  an  ominous  negative  in  their  looks  of  gloom. 

16 


362  THE   WAR-TKATT. 

We  were  compelled  to  halt  ;  even  the  smoke  rendered  further 
progress  impossible  ;  but  we  could  hear  the  fire  at  no  great 
distance — the  culms  of  the  coarse  reed-grass  cracking  like  vol 
leys  of  musketry. 

Now  and  then,  a  scared  deer  broke  through  the  bushes,  pass 
ing  us  at  full  speed.  A.  band  of  antelopes  dashed  into  the  glade, 
and  halted  close  beside  us — the  frightened  creatures  not  knowing 
where  to  run.  At  their  heels  came  a  pack  of  prairie-wolves,  but 
not  in  pursuit  of  them  :  these  also  stopped  near.  A  black  bear 
and  a  cougar  arrived  next  ;  and  fierce  beasts  of  prey  and  gentle 
ruminants  stood  side  by  side,  both  terrified  out  of  their  natural 
habits.  Birds  shrieked  among  the  branches,  eagles  screamed  in 
the  air,  and  black  vultures  could  be  seen  hovering  through  the 
smoke,  with  no  thought  of  stooping  upon  a  quarry  ! 

The  hunter  man  alone  preserved  his  instincts.  My  followers 
were  hungry.  Rifles  were  levelled — and  the  bear  and  one  of 
the  antelopes  fell  victims  to  the  deadly  aim. 

Both  were  soon  stripped  of  their  skins,  and  butchered.  A 
fire  was  kindled  in  the  glade,  and  upon  sword-blades  and  sap- 
Ting  spits  the  choice  morsels  of  venison  and  "  bear-meat " 
were  roasted,  and  eaten,  with  many  a  jest  about  the  "  smoky 
kitchen." 

I  was  myself  hungered.  I  shared  the  repast,  but  not  the 
merriment.  At  that  moment,  no  wit  could  have  won  from  me 
a  smile  ;  the  most  luxurious  table  could  not  have  furnished  me 
with  cheer. 

A  worse  appetite  than  hunger  assailed  my  companions,  and  I 
felt  it  with  the  rest — it  was  thirst ;  for  hours  all  had  been  suf 
fering  from  it ;  the  long  hard  ride  had  brought  it  on,  and  now 
the  smoke  and  the  dry  hot  atmosphere  increased  the  appetite 
till  it  had  grown  agonizing,  almost  unendurable.  No  water  had 
been  passed  since  the  stream  we  had  crossed  before  day  ;  there 
was  none  in  the  chaparral ;  the  trackers  saw  none  so  far  as 
they  had  gone  :  we  were  in  a  waterless  desert  ;  and  the  very 


SMOKE    AND    THIRST.  3 63 

thought  itself  renders  the  pang-thirst  keener  and  harder  to 
endure. 

Some  chewed  their  leaden  bullets,  or  pebbles  of  chalcedony 
which  they  had  picked  up  ;  others  had  gained  relief  by  drinking 
the  blood  of  the  slaughtered  animals — the  bear  and  the  ante 
lope — but  we  found  a  better  source  of  assuagement  in  the  succu 
lent  stems  of  the  cactus  and  agave. 

The  relief  was  but  temporary  :  the  juice  cooled  our  lips  and 
tongues,  but  there  is  an  acrid  principle  in  these  plants  thai; 
soon  acted,  and  our  thirst  became  more  intense  than  ever. 

Some  talked  of  returning  on  the  trail  in  search  of  water — 
of  going  back  even  to  the  stream — more  than  twenty  .miles 
distant. 

Under  such  circumstances,  even  military  command  loses  its 
authority.  Nature  is  stronger  than  martial  law. 

I  cared  not  if  they  did  return  ;  I  cared  not  who  left  me,  so 
long  as  the  trappers  remained  true.  I  had  no  fear  that  they 
would  forsake  me,  and  my  disapprobation  of  it  checked  the 
cheerless  proposal,  and  once  more  all  declared  their  willing 
ness  to  go  on. 

Fortunately,  at  that  crisis  the  smoke  began  to  clear  away, 
and  the  atmosphere  to  lighten  up.  The  fire  had  burnt  on  to 
the  edge  of  the  chaparral,  where  it  was  now  opposed  by  the 
sap-bearing  trees.  The  grass  had  been  all  consumed — the  con 
flagration  was  at  an  end. 

Mounting  our  horses,  we  rode  out  from  the  glade  ;  and  fol 
lowing  the  trail  a  few  hundred  yards  farther,  we  emerged  from 
the  thicket,  and  stood  upon  the  edge  of  the  desolated  plain 


364  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 


CHAPTER    LXX. 

A      BURNT      PRAIRIE. 

THE  earth  pffers  no  aspect  more  drear  and  desolate  than  that 
of  a  burnt  prairie.  The  ocean  when  its  waves  are  grey — a 
blighted  heath — a  flat,  fenny  country  in  a  rapid  thaw, — all 
these  impress  the  beholder  with  a  feeling  of  chill  monotony  ; 
bat  the  water  has  motion,  the  heath  color,  and  the  half-thawed 
flat  exhibits  variety  in  its  mottling  of  white  and  ground. 

Not  so  the  steppe  that  has  been  fired  and  burned.  In  this 
the  eye  perceives  neither  color,  nor  form,  nor  motion.  It 
roams  over  the  limitless  level  in  search  of  one  or  other,  but  in 
vain  ;  and  in  the  absence  of  all  three,  it  tires,  and  the  heart 
grows  cheerless  and  sick.  Even  the  sky  scarcely  offers  relief. 
It,  too,  by  refraction  from  the  black  surface  beneath,  wears  a 
dull,  livid  aspect ;  or  perhaps  the  eye,  jaundiced  by  the  reflec 
tion  of  the  earth,  beholds  not  the  brightness  of  the  heavens. 

A  prairie,  when  green,  does  not  always  glad  the  eye — not 
even  when  enamelled  with  fairest  flowers.  I  have  crossed  such 
plains,  verdant  or  blooming  to  the  utmost  verge  of  vision,  and 
longed  for  something  to  appear  in  sight — a  rock,  a  tree,  a  living 
creature — anything  to  relieve  the  universal  sameness  ;  just  as 
the  voyager  on  the  ample  ocean  longs  for  ships,  for  cetacea,  or 
the  sight  of  laud,  and  is  delighted  with  a  nautilus,  polypi,  phos 
phorescence,  or  a  floating  weed. 

Color  alone  does  not  satisfy  the  sense.  What  hue  more 
charming  than  the  fresh  verdure  of  the  grassy  plain  ?  what  more 
exquisite  than  the  deep  blue  of  the  ocean  ?  and  yet  the  eye 
grows  weary  of  both  !  Even  the  "  flower-prairie,"  with  its 
thousands  of  gay  corollas  of  every  tint  and  shade — with  its 


A   BUENT   PEAIRIE.  365 

golden  helianthus,  its  white  argemone,  its  purple  cleome,  its 
pink  malvacese,  its  bine  lupiu,  its  poppy  worts  of  red  and  orange 
— even  these  fair  tints  grow  tiresome  to  the  sight,  and  the  eye 
yearns  for  form  and  motion. 

If  so,  what  must  be  the  prairie  when  divested  of  all  its 
verdant  and  flowery  charms — when  burned  to  black  ashes  ?  It 
is  difficult  to  conceive  the  aspect  of  dreary  monotony  it  then 
presents — more  difficult  to  describe  it.  Words  will  not  paint 
such  a  scene. 

And  such  presented  itself  to  our  eyes  as  we  rode  out  from  the 
chaparral.  The  fire  was  past — even  the  smoke  had  ceased  to 
rise,  except  in  spots  where  the  damp  earth  still  reeked  under  the 
heat  ;  but  right  and  left,  and  far  ahead,  on  to  the  very  hem  of 
the  horizon,  the  surface  was  of  one  uniform  hue,  as  if  covered 
with  a  vast  crape.  There  was  naught  of  form  to  be  seen,  living 
or  lifeless  ;  there  was  no  life  or  motion  even  in  the  elements  ; 
all  sounds  had  ceased  :  an  awful  stillness  reigned  above  and 
around — the  world  seemed  dead  and  shrouded  in  its  sable  pall ! 

Under  other  circumstances,  I  might  have  stayed  to  regard 
such  a  scene,  though  not  to  admire  it.  On  that  interminable 
waste,  there  was  naught  to  be  admired,  not  even  sublimity  ;  but 
no  spectacle  however  sublime,  however  beautiful,  could  have 
won  from  me  a  thought  at  that  moment. 

The  trackers  had  already  ridden  far  out,  and  we.re  advancing, 
half  concealed  by  the  cloud  of  black  "  stoor  "  flung  up  from  the 
heels  of  'their  horses.  For  some  distance  they  moved  straight 
on  without  looking  for  the  tracks  of  the  steed  Before  meeting 
the  fire,  they  had  gone  beyond  the  edge  of  the  chaparral  ;  after 
a  while,  I  observed  them  moving  more  slowly,  with  their  eyes 
upon  the  ground  as  if  looking  for  the  trail.  I  had  doubts  of 
their  being  able  either  to  find  or  follow  it  ROW.  The  shallow 
hoof-prints  would  be  filled  with  the  debris  of  the  burnt  herbage 
— surely  they  could  no  longer  be  traced  ? 

Bv  myself,  they  could  not,  nor  by  a  common  man  ;  but  it 


366  THE   WAK-TRAIL. 

seemed  that  to  the  eyes  of  those  keen  hunters,  the  trail  was  as  con 
spicuons  as  ever.  I  saw  that  after  searching  a  few  seconds, 
they  had  taken  it  up,  and  were  owce  more  moving  along,  guided 
by  the  tracks.  Some  slight  hollows  I  could  perceive,  distributed 
here  and  there  over  the  ground,  and  scarcely  distinguishable 
from  the  surrounding  level.  Certainly,  without  having  been 
told  what  they  were,  I  should  not  have  known  them  to.  be  the 
tracks  of  a  horse. 

It  proved  a  wide  prairie,  and  we  seemed  to  be  crossing  its 
central  part.  The  fire  had  spread  far. 

At  one  place,  nearly  midway,  where  the  trail  was  faint,  and 
difficult  to  make  out,  we  stopped  for  a  short  while  to  give  the 
trackers  time.  A  momentary  curiosity  induced  me  to  gaze 
around.  Awful  was  the  scene — awful  without  sublimity.  Even 
the  thorny  chaparral  no  longer  relieved  the  eye  ;  the  outline  of 
its  low  shrubbery  had  sunk  below  the  horizon,  and  on  all  sides 
stretched  the  charred  plain  up  to  the  rim  of  the  leaden  canopy, 
black — black — illimitable.  Had  I  been  alone,  I  might  easily 
have  yielded  to  the  fancy,  that  the  world  was  dead. 

Gazing  over  this  vast  opacity,  I  for  a  moment  forgot  my 
companions,  and  fell  into  a  sort  of  lethargic  stupor.  I  fancied 
that  I,  too,  was  dead  or  dreaming — I  fended  that  I  was  in  hell 
— the  Avernus  of  the  ancients.  In  my  youth,  I  had  the  misfor 
tune  to  be*  well  schooled  in  classic  lore,  to  the  neglect  of  studies 
that  are  useful;  and  often  in  life  have  the  poetical  absurdities 
of  Greek  and  Latin  mythology  intruded  themselves  "upon  my 
spirit — both  asleep  and  awake.  I  fancied,  therefore,  that  some 
well-meaning  Anchises  had  introduced  me  to  the  regions  below; 
ind  that  the  black  plain  before  me  was  some  landscape  in  the 
kingdom  of  Pluto.  Reflection — had  I  been  capable  of  tbat — 
would  have  convinced  me  of  my  error.  No  part  of  that  mon 
arch's  dominions  can  be  so  thinly  peopled. 

I  was  summoned  to  reason  again  by  the  voices 'of  my  followers. 
The  lost  trail  had  been  found,  and  they  were  moving  on. 


THE  TALK  OF  THE  TRACKERS.  367 

CHAPTER  LXXL 

THE     TALK     OP    THE     TRACKERS. 

I  SPURRED  after,  and  soon  overtook  them.  Regardless  of  the 
dust,  I  rode  close  in  the  rear  of  the  trackers,  and  listened  to  what 
they  were  saying. 

These  "  men  of  the  mountains  " — as  they  prided  to  call  them 
selves — were  peculiar.  While  engaged  in  a  duty,  such  as  the 
present,  they  would  scarce  disclose  their  thoughts,  even  to  me; 
much  less  were  they  communicative  with  the  rest  of  my  following, 
whom  they  were  accustomed  to  regard  as  "  greenhorns  " — their 
favorite  appellation  for  all  men  who  have  not  made  the  tour  of  the 
grand  prairies.  Notwithstanding  that  Stanfield  and  Black  were 
backwoodsmen  arid  hunters  by  profession,  Quackenboss  a  splen 
did  shot,  Le  Blanc  a  regular  "  voyagc^r"  and  the  others  more 
or  less  skilled  in  woodcraft,  all  were  greenhorns  in  the  opinion 
of  the  trappers.  To  be  otherwise,  a  man  must  have  starved  upon 
a  "  sage-prairie  " — "  run  "  buffalo  by  the  Yellowstone  or  Platte — 
fought  "  Injun,"  and  shot  Indian — ;have  well-nigh  lost  scalp  or 
ears — spent  a  winter  in  Pierre's  Hole  upon  Green  River — or 
camped  amid  the  snows  of  the  Rocky  Mountains!  Some  one  of 
all  these,  feats  must  needs  have  been  performed  ere  the  "  green 
horn  "  can  matriculate  and  take  rank  as  a  "  mountain  man/' 

I  of  all  my  party  was  the  only  one  who,  in  the  eyes  of  Rube 
and  Garey,  was  not  a  greenhorn,  and  even  I — gentleman  ama 
teur  that  I  was — was  hardly  up  either  in  their  confidence  or 
their  "  craft."  It  is  indeed  true — with  all  classic  accomplish 
ments,  with  my  fine  words,  my  fine  horse,  and  my  fine  clothes — 
so  long  as  we  were  within  the  limits  of  prairie-land,  I  acknow 
ledged  these  men  as  my  superiors.  They  were  my  guides,  my 
instructors,  my  masters. 

Since  overtaking  them  on  the  trail,  I  had  not  asked  them  to 


208  THE   WAfe-TRAIL. 

give  any  opinion.     I  dreaded  a  direct  answer — for  I  had  noticed 
something  like  a  despairing  look  in  the  eyes  of  both. 

As  I  followed  them  over  the  black  plain,  however,  I  thought 
that  their  faces  brightened  a  little,  and  appeared  once  more  lit 
up  by  a  faint  ray  of  hope.  For  that  reason,  I  rode  close  upon 
their  heels,  and  eagerly  caught  up  every  word  that  was  passing 
between  them.  Rube  was  speaking  when  I  first  drew  near. 

"Wagh!  I  don't  b'lieve  it,  Bill;  'taint  possyble  no-how-so- 
ever.  The  paraira  wur  sot  afire — must  'a  been ;  thur's  no  other 
ways  for  it.  It  couldn't  'a  tuk  to  bleezin  o'  itself — eh?" 

"  Sartinly  not;  I  agree  wi'  you,  Rube." 

"  Wai — thur  wur  a  fellur  as  I  met  oucest  at  Bent's  Fort  on 
the  Arkinsaw — a  odd  sort  o'  critter  he  wur,  an'  no  mistake;  he 
us't  to  go  pokin'  about,  gatherin'  weeds  an'  all  sorts  o'  green 
garbitch,  an'  spreadin'  'em  out  atween  sheets  o'  paper — whet  he 
called  buttoneyesin — jest  like  thet  ur  Dutch  doctur  as  wur  rub 
bed  out,  when  we  went  into  the  Navagh  country,  t'other  side  o 
the  Grand." 
<  "  I  remembers  him." 

"  Wai,  this  hyur  fellur  I  tell  'ee  about,  he  us't  to  talk  might* 
big  o' this,  thet,  and  t'other;  an'  he  palavered  a  heap  'bout  a 
thing  thet,  ef  I  don't  disremember,  wur  called  spuntaynyus  kum- 
buxshun" 

"  I've  heerd  o'  't;  that  are  the  name," 

"  Wai,  the  button-eyeser,  he  sayed  thet  a  paraira  mout  take 
afire  o'  itself,  'ithout  anybody  whatsomdiver  hevin  sot  it.  Now, 
thet  ur's  what  this  child  don't  b'lieve,  nohow.  In  coorse,  I  knows 
thet  lightnin'  sometimes  may  sot  a  paraira  a  bleezin',  but  lightnin' 
;s  a  natral  fire  o'  itself ;  and  it's  only  reezunible  to  expect  thet 
the  dry  grass  wud  catch  from  it  like  punk  ;  but  I  shed  like  to 
know  how  fire  kud  kindle  by  itself — thet's  whet  I  shed  like  to 
know." 

"  I  don't  believe  it  can,"  rejoined  Garey. 

"  Ne'er  a  bit  o'  it      I  never  seed  a  burnV  paraira  yit,  th*t 


THE   TALK   OF*  THE   TKACKEKS.  369 

thur  waVt  eyther  a  camp-fire  or  a  Injun  at  the  bottom  o'  it — • 
thet  ur  ?eeptin  whur  lightriin'  bed  did  the  bizness." 

*'  And  you  think,  Rube,  thar's  been  Injun  at  the  bottom  o' 

this  r 

"  Putty  nigh  sure;  and  I'll  gie  you  my  reezuns.  Fust,  do  'ee 
see  thur's  been  no  lightniu'  this  mornin'  to  'a  made  the  fire  ? 
Seconds,  it's  too  fur  west  hyur  for  any  settlement  o'  whites — in 
coorse  I  speak  o'  Texans — thur  might  be  Mexikins  ;  them  I 
don't  call  white,  nohow  nosomediver.  And  then,  agin,  it  kin 
scarce  be  Mexikins  neyther.  It  ur  too  fur  no'th  for  any  o'  the 
yellur  bellies  to  be  a  strayin'  jest  now,  seein  as  it's  the  Mixikin 
moon  wi'  the  Kimanchees,  an'  both  them  an'  the  Leepaus  ur  en 
the  war-trail.  Wai,  then,  it'^clur  thur's  no  Mexikin  'bout  hyur 
to  hev  sot  the  pnraira  afire,  an  thur's  been  no  lightnin  to  do  it; 
thurfor,  it  must  'a  been  did  .eyther  by  a  Injun,  or  thet  ui  dod- 
rotted  spuutaynyus  kumbuxshuu." 

"One  or  t'other." 

"  Wai,  bein'  as  this  child  don't  b'lieve  in  the  kumbuxsbr.n  no 
how,  thurfor  it's  my  opeeuyun  thet  red  Injuns  did  the  bizness-  — 
they  did  sartint." 

"  No  doubt  of  it,"  assented  Garey. 

"  An  ef  they  did,"  continued  the  old  trapper,  "  thur  about  yit 
somewhur  not  fur  off,  an'  we've  got  to  keep  a  sharp  look-out  for 
our  bar — we  hev." 

"  Safe,  we  have,"  assented  Garey. 

"  I  tell  'ee,  Bill,"  continued  Rube,  in  a  new  strain,  "  the  In 
juns  is  mighty  riled  jest  now.  I  never  knowd  'em  so  savagerous 
an'  fighty.  The  war  hez  gin  'em  a  fresh  start,  an'  thur  dander's 
up  agin  us,  by  reezun  thet  the  gin'ral  didn't  take  thur  offer  to 
!ielp  us  agin  the  yellur-bellies.  Ef  we  meet  wi'  eyther  Kimancb 
or  Leepan  on  these  hyur  plains,  thu'll  scalp  us,  or  we'll  scalp 
'em— thet'll  be  it.  Wagh!" 

"  But  what  for  could  they  'a  sot  the  parairy  on  fire  ?"  inquired 
Grarey. 

16* 


3VO  •      THE    WAK-TRAIL. 

**  Thet  ere,"  replied  Rube,  "  thet  ere  wur  what  puzzled  me  at 
fust.  I  thort  it  mout  'a  been  done  by  accydent — preehaps  by 
the  scatterin'  o'  a  camp-fire — for  Injuns  is  careless  enuf  'bout 
thet.  Now,  hows'owever,  I've  got  a  diff'rent  idee.  Thet  story 
thet  Dutch  and  Frenchy  hev  fetched  from  the  rancherie;  gies  me 
a  insight  inter  the  hull  bizuess." 

I  knew  the  "  story  "  to  which  Rube  had  reference.  Lige  and 
Le  Blanc,  when  at  the  village,  had  heard  some  rumor  of  an 
Indian  foray  that  had  just  been  made  against  one  of  the  Mexi 
can  towns,  not  far  from  the  rancheria.  It  had  occurred  on  the 
same  day  that  we  marched  out.  The  Indians — supposed  to  be 
Lipans  or  Comanches — had  sacked  the  place,  and  carried  off 
both  plunder  and  captives.  A  pd!f ly  of  them  had  passed  near 
the  rancheria  after  we  ourselves  had  left  it.  This  party  had 
~*  called  "  at  the  Hacienda  de  Vargas  and  completed  the  pillage, 
left  unfinished  by  the  guerrilla.  This  was  the  substance  of  what 
the  messengers  had  heard. 

'•'  You  mean  about  the  Injuns  ?"  said  Garey,  half  interroga 
tively. 

"  In  coorse,"  rejoined  Rube.  "  Belike  enuf,  'em  Injuns  ur  the 
same  niggurs  we  gin  such  a  rib-roastin'  to  by  the  moun.  Wagh  I 
they  hain't  gone  back  to  thur  mountains,  as  'twur  b'lieved ;  they 
dassent  'a  gone  back  in  sich  disgrace,  'ithout  takin  eyther  har  or 
bosses.  The  squaws  ud  'a  hooted  'em." 

"  Sure  enough." 

"  Sure  sartint.  Wai,  Billee,  >ee  see  now  what  I  mean  :  thet 
party's  been  a  skulketin  'bout  hyur  ever  since,  till  *hey  got  a 
fust-rate  chance  at  the  Mexikin  town,  an'  thur  they've  struck  i 
llow." 

"  It's  mighty  like  as  you  say,  Rube ;  but  why  have  they  sot 
fire  to  the  parairy  ?" 

"  Wagh  I  Bill,  kin  ye  not  see  why  :  it  ur  <plaiu  as  Pike  i 
Peak  on  a  summery  day." 

"  I  don't  see,"  responded  Garey,  in  a  thoughtful  tone. 


THE   TALK   OF   THE   TKACKERS.  3f 

"  Well,  this  child  do  ;  an'  this  ur  the  reezun  :  as  I  tell  'ee,  the 
Injuns  hain't  forgot  the  lambaystin  they  hed  by  the  moan  ;  an 
preehaps  bein'  now  a  weak  party,  an'  thiukin  tbet  we  as  wolloped 
'em  wur  stil)  i*  the  rancherie,  they  war  afeerd  tbet  on  heariri  o' 
tliur  pilledgin',  we  mout  be  arter  'em." 

"  An'  they've  burnt  the  parairy  to  kiver  thur  trail  ?" 

11  Preezactly  so." 

"  By  gosh,  you're  right,  Rube  ? — it's  uncommon  like.  Buc 
whar  do  you  think  this  trail's  goin'  ?  Surely,  the  hoss  hain  t 
been  caught  in  the  fire  ?" 

I  bent  forward  in  the  saddle,  and  listened  with  acute  eager 
ness.  To  my  great  relief,  the  answer  of  the  old  trapper  was  in 
the  negative. 

"  He  hain't,"  said  he  ;  "  ne'er  a  bit  o'  it.  His  trail,  do  ;ee 
see,  runs  in  a  bee-line,  or  clost  on  a  bee-line  ;  now,  ef  the  fire 
hed  'a  begun  afore  he  wur  acrosst  this  paraira,  he  wud  long 
since  'a  doubled  'bout,  an  tuk  the  back  track  ;  but  'ee  see  he 
hain't  did  so  ;  thurfor,  I  conclude  he's  safe  through  it,  an'  the 
grass  must  'a  been  sot  afire  ahint  'im." 

I  breathed  freely  after  listening  to  these  words.  A  load 
seemed  lifted  from  my  breast,  for  up  to  this  moment  I  had  been 
vainly  endeavoring  to  combat  the  fearful  apprehension  that  had 
shaped  itself  in  my  imagination.  From  the  moment  that  we 
had  entered  the  burned  prairie,  my  eyes  constantly,  and  almost 
mechanically,  had  sought  the  ground  in  front  of  our  course,  had 
wandered  over  it,  with  uneasy  glance,  in  dread  of  beholding 
forms — lifeless — burned  and  charred 

The  words  of  the  trapper  gave  relief — almost  an  assurance 
that  the  steed  and  his  rider  were  still  safe — and,  undei  inspira 
tion  of  renewed  hope,  I  rode  more  cheerfully  forward. 


373  THE   WAR-TRAIL 


CHAPTER     LXXII. 

"  INJUN    SIGN." 

AFTER  a  pause,  the  guides  resumed  their  conversation,  and  1 
continued  to  listen. .  I  had  a  reason  for  not  mingling  in  it.  If 
I  joined  them  in  their  counsels,  they  might  not  express  their 
convictions  so  freely,  and  I  was  desirous  of  knowing  what  they 
truly  thought.  By  keeping  close  behind  them,  I  could  hear  all — 
myself  unnoticed  under  the  cloud  of  dust  that  rose  around  us. 
On  the  soft  ashes,  the  hoof-stroke  was  scarcely  audible,  our 
horses  gliding  along  in  a  sweeping,  silent  walk. 

"  By  Gosh  !  then,"  said  Garey,  "  if  Injuns  fired  the  parairy, 
they  must  'a  done  it  to  wind'ard,  an'  we're  travellin'  right  in  the 
teeth  o'  the  wind  ;  we're  goin'  in  a  ugly  direction,  Rube  ;  what 
do  you  think  o't,  old  hoss  ?" 

"  Jest  what  you  sez,  boyee — a  cussed  ugly  direckshun — 
durnation'd  ugly." 

4<  It  aint  many  hours  since  the  fire  begun,  and  the  redskins 
won't  be  far  from  t'  other  side,  I  reckon.  If  the  hoss-trail  leads 
us  right  on  them,  we'll  be  in  a  fix,  old  boy." 

"  Aye,"  replied  Rube,  in  a  low  but  significant  drawl  ;  "  ef  it 
do,  an'  ef  this  niggur  don't  a  miskalkerlate,  it  will  lead  right  OD 
em,  plum  straight  custrut  into  thur  camp. 

I  started  on  hearing  this.  I  could  no  longer  remain  silent ; 
but  brushing  rapidly  forward  to  the  s;de  of  the  trapper,  in  hasty 
phrase  demanded  his  meaning. 

"  Jost  what  'ee've  heern  me  say,  yOung  fellur,"  was  his  re- 

p]y- 

"You  think  that  there  are  Indians  ahead — that  the  horse 
has  gone  to  their  camp  !" 

"  No,  not  gone  thur  ;  nor  kin  I  say  for  sartint  thur  ur  Injuns 


3T3 

yet  i  though  it  looks  mighty  like.  Ther's  nuthin'  else  to  guv 
reezun  for  the  fire — nuthiu'  as  Bill  or  me  can  think  o' ;  an'  ef 
thtir  be  Injuns,  then  I  don't  think  the  hoss  hez  g  ne  to  thur 
camp,  but  I  do  kalkerlate  it's  mighty  like  he's  been  tuk  thur  ; 
thet's  whet  I  thinks,  young  fellur." 

"  You  mean  that  the  Indians  have  captured  him  ?" 

"  That's  preezactly  what  this  child  means." 

"  But  how  1     What  reason  have  you  for  thinking  so  I" 

"  Wai — jest  because  I  think  so." 

"  Pray  explain,   Rube  !"  I   said,    in  an  appealing   tone, 
feared  that  his  secretive  instincts  would  get  the  better  of  him, 
and  he  would  delay  giving  his  reasons,  from  a  pure  love  of  mys 
tification  that  was  inherent  in  the  old  fellow's  nature.     I  was 
too  anxious  to  be  patient ;  but  my  appeal  proved  successful. 

"  Wai,  'ee  see,  young  fellur,  the  hoss  must  'a  crosst  hyur  jest 
afore  this  prairia  wur  sot  afire  ;  and  it's  mighty  reezunible  to 
s'pose  thet  whosomediver  did  the  bizness,  Injun  or  no  Injun, 
must  'a  been  to  win'ard  o'  hyur.  It  ur  also  likely  enuf,  I 
reckun,  thet  the  party  must  'a  seed  the  hoss  ;  and  it  ur  likely 
agin  thet  nobody  wa'nt  a  gwine  to  see  thet  hoss,  wi'  the  gurl 
stropped  down  'long  his  hump  ribs,  'ithout  being  kewrious  enuf 
to  take  arter  i'm.  Injuns  'ud  be  safe  to  go  arter  'im,  yellin'  like 
blazes  ;  and  arter  'im  they've  gone,  and  roped  'im,  I  reckun— 
that  they've  done." 

"  You  think  they  could  have  caugnt  him  ?" 

"  Sartin.  The  hoss  by  then  must  'a  been  dead  beat — thet  ur, 
unless  he's  got  the  divvel  in  7em ;  an  by  Geehorum  !  I  gin  to 

surspect .     Gehu — Grehosophat  I  jest  as  I  said ;  lookee,  thur 

—thur  !" 

''What  is  it?"  I  inquired,  seeing  the  speaker  suddenly  halt, 
and  point  to  the  ground,  upon  which  his  eyes  also  were  fixed. 
"  What  is  it,  Rube  ?  I  can  perceive  nothing  strange." 

"  Don't  ;ee  see  ;em  hoss-tracks  1 — thur  ! — thick  as  sheep  feet 
--hundreds  o'  'em!" 


THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

I  certainly  noticed  some  slight  hollows  in  the  surface,  nearly 
levelled  up  by  the  black  ashes.  I  should  not  have  known  them 
to  be  horse-tracks. 

"They  ur,"  said  Rube,  "every  one  o' 'em — an'  Injun  hoss 
tracks,  sure." 

"  They  may  be  the  wild  bosses,  Rube  1"  said  one  of  the  ran 
gers,  riding  up,  and  surveying  the  sign. 

"  Wild  jackasses  !"  angrily  retorted  the  old  trapper.  "  Whur 
did  you  ever  see  a  wild  hoss  ?  Do  'ee  s'pose  I've  turned  stone 
blind,  do  'ee  ?  Stan  thur,  my  mar  !"  he  cried,  flinging  his  lean 
carcass  out  of  the  saddle,  at  the  same  time  talking  to  his  mare  : 
"  'ee  knows  better  than  thet  fellur,  I  kio  tell  by  the  way  yur 
sniftiu'.  Keep  yur  ground  a  minute,  ole  gurl,  till  ole  Rube  shew 
these  hyur  greenhorns  how  a  mountain  man  kin  read  sign — 
wild  bosses  !  wagh  I" 

After  thus  delivering  himself,  the  trapper  dropped  upon  his 
knees,  placed  his  lips  close  to  the  ground,  and  commenced  blow 
ing  at  the  black  ashes.  All  had  by  this  time  ridden  up,  and  sat 
in  their  saddles  watching  him. 

We  saw  that  he  was  clearing  the  ashes  out  of  one  of  the 
hollows  which  he  had  pronounced  to  be  horse-tracks,  and  which 
now  proved  to  be  so. 

"  Thur,  now,  mister  !"  said  he  turning  triumphantly,  and 
rather  savagely,  upon  the  range*-  who  had  questioned  the  truth 
of  his  conjecture  ;  "  thur's  a  shod  track — shod  wi'  parflesh,  too. 
Did  'ee  ever  see  a  wild  hoss,  or  a  wild  mule,  or  a  wild  jackass 
eyther,  shod  wi'  parflesh  ?  Ef  'ee  did,  it's  more  'u  Rube  Rawlius 
ever  seed,  and  that  ur  trapper's  been  on  the  hoss-plains  well 
nigh  forty  yeern.  Wagh  I'1 

Of  course,  there  was  no  reply  to  this  interrogatory.  There 
was  the  track,  and,  dismounting,  we  all  examined  it  in  turn. 

Sure  enough  it  was  the  track  of  a  shod  horse — shod  with 
parfleehc — thick  leather,  made  from  the  hide  of  the  baffalo 
bull. 


TBANSLATING   THE    "  SIGN."  375 

We  all  knew  this  to  be  a  mode  of  shoeing  practiced  by  the 
horse-Indians  of  the  plains,  and  only  by  them. 

The  evidence  was  conclusive  :  Indians  had  been  upon  the 
ground, 


CHAPTER  LXXIII. 

TRANSLATING     THE     "SIGN." 

THIS  discovery  brought  us  to  a  halt.  A  consultation  ensued, 
in  which  all  took  part  ;  but  as  usual  the  others  listened  to 
the  opinions  of  the  prairie-meu,  and  especially  to  that  of 
Rube. 

The  old  trapper  was  inclined  to  sulk  for  some  time,  and  acted 
as  if  he  meant  to  withhold  his  advice.  Nothing  "  huffed  "  him 
more  than  to  have  his  word  contradicted,  or  his  skill  called  in 
question.  I  have  known  him  to  be  "  out  of  sorts"  for  days, 
from  having  his  woodcraft  doubted  by  some  one  whom  he  deem 
ed  less  skilled  than  himself ;  arid  indeed  there  were  few  of  his 
kind  whose  knowledge  of  the  wilderness  was  at  all  comparable 
with  his.  He  was  not  always  in  the  right,  but  generally  where 
his  instincts  failed,  it  was  idle  to  try  further.  In  the  present 
case,  tne  man  who  had  thoughtlessly  doubted  him  was  one  of 
the  "  greenest'7  of  the  party,  but  this  verdancy  only  aggravated 
the  matter  in  the  eyes  of  old  Rube. 

"  Sich  a  fellur  as  you,"  he  said,  giving  a  last  dig  to  the  offend 
ing  ranger — "  sich  a  fellur  as  you  oughter  git  yur  head  shet  up  : 
thet  ur  tongue  o'  yourn  keeps  a  gwine  like  a  bull's  tail  in  fly- 
time.  Wagh  I" 

As  the  man  made  no  reply  to  this  rather  rough  remonstrance, 
E,ube's  "  dander "  soon  smothed  down,  and  once  more  getting 
cool,  he  turned  his  attention  to  the  business  of  the  hour. 

That  there  had  been  Indians  upon  the  ground  was  now  an 


3?$  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

ascertained  fact  ;  the  peculiar  shoeing  of  the  horses  rendered  it 
indubitable.  Mexican  horses,  if  shod  at  all,  would  have  had  a 
shoeing  of  iron — at  least  on  their  fore  feet.  Wild  mustangs 
would  have  had  the  hoof  naked  ;  while  the  tracks  of  Texan  or 
American  horses  could  have  been  easily  told,  either  from  the 
peculiar  shoeing  or  the  superior  size  of  their  hoofs.  The  horses 
hat  had  galloped  over  that  ground  were  neither  wild,  Texan, 
nor  Mexican  :  Indian  they  must  have  been. 

Although  the  one  track  first  examined  might  have  settled  the 
point,  it  was  a  fact  of  too  much  importance  to  be  left  under  the 
s^'ghtest  doubt.  The  presence  of  Indians  meant  the  presence  of 
enemies — foes  dire  and  deadly  ;  and  it  was  with  something  more 
than  feelings  of  mere  curiosity  that  my  companions  scrutinized 
the  sign. 

The  ashes  were  blown  out  from  several  others,  and  these 
carefully  studied.  Additional  facts  were  brought  to  light  by 
those  Ohampollions  of  the  prairie — R,ube  and  Garey.  Whoever 
rode  the  horses,  had  been  going  in  a  gallop.  They  had  not  rid 
den  long  in  one  course  ;  but  here  and  there  had  turned  and 
struck  off  in  new  directions.  There  had  been  a  score  or  so  of 
them.  No  two  had  been  galloping  together  ;  their  tracks  con 
verged  or  crossed  one  another — now  zigzagging,  now  running  in 
right  lines,  or  sweeping  in  curves  and  circles  over  the  plain. 

All  this  knowledge  the  trackers  had  obtained  in  less  than  ten 
minutes,  simply  by  riding  round  the  place.  Not  to  disturb 
them  in  their  diagnosis,  the  rest  of  us  halted  upon  the  spot 
where  the  new  tracks  had  been  first  observed,  and  there  awaited 
the  result  of  their  scrutiny. 

In  ten  minutes'  time  both  came  back  to  us  ;  they  had  read 
the  sign  to  their  satisfaction,  and  needed  no  further  light. 

That  sign  had  disclosed  to  them  one  fact  of  more  significance 
than  all  the  rest.  Of  course,  we  all  knew  that  the  Indian 
horsemen  had  gone  over  the  ground  before  the  grass  had  been 
burnt  ;  but  how  long  before?  We  had  no  difficulty  in  making 


TRANSLATING   TILE    "  SIGN."  377 

out  that  it  was  upon  that  same  day,  and  since  the  rising  of  the 
sun — these  were  trifles  easily  ascertained  ;  but  at  what  hour  had 
they  passed  ?  Late,  or  early  ?  With  the  steed,  before,  or 
after  him  ? 

About  this  point  I  was  most  anxious,  but  I  had  not  the 
slightest  idea  that  it  could  be  decided  by  the  "sign."  To  my 
astonishment,  those  cunning  hunters  returned  to  tell  me,  not 
only  the  very  hour  at  which  the  steed  had  passed  the  spot,  but 
also  that  the  Indian  horsemen  had  been  riding  after  him  !  Clair 
voyance  could  scarcely  have  gone  farther. 

The  old  trapper  had  grown  expletive,  more  than  was  his  wont. 
It  was  no  longer  a  matter  of  tracking  the  white  steed.  Indians 
were  near.  Caution  had  become  necessary,  and  neither  the 
company  nor  counsel  of  the  humblest  was  to  be  scorned.  We 
might  soon  stand  in  need  of  the  strength  even  of  the  weakest  in 
our  party. 

Freely,  then,  the  trackers  communicated  their  discoveries,  in 
answer  to  my  interrogations. 

14  The  white  boss,"  said  Rube,  "  must  'a  been  hyur  'bout  four 
hours  ago,  kalkerlatin'  the  rate  at  which  he  wur  a  gwine,  and 
kalkerlatin*  how  fur  he  hed  ter  kum.  He  haint  'a  stopped  no- 
whur;  an'  'ceptin  i'  the  thicket,  he  hez  gallipt  the  rest  o'  the  way 
— thet's  clur.  Wai,  we  knows  the  distance,  thurfor  we  knows 
the  time — thet's  clur  too ;  an'  four  hour's  'bout  the  mark,  I  reck'n 
— preehaps  a  leetle  less,  an  alser  preehaps  a  leetle  more.  Now, 
furrermore  to  the  peint.  Them  niggurs  hez  been  eyther  clost 
arter  'im,  in  view  o'  the  critter,  or  follerin'  'im  on  the  trail — the 
Dne  or  the  t'other — an'  which  'taint  possyble  to  tell  wi'  il  is  hyur 
sign,  no-how-cum-soinever.  But  thet  they  wur  arter  'i&>  ma  an; 
Bill's  made  out  clur  as  mud — thet  we  sartintly  hez." 

"  How  have  you  ascertained  that  they  were  after  ?" 

"  The  tracks,  young  fellur — the  tracks.'' 

"  But  how  by  them  ?" 


578  THE    WAB-TEAIL. 

"  Easy  as  eatin'  hump-rib :  them  as  wur  made  by  the  white 
boss  ur  un'ermost." 

The  conclusion  was  clear  indeed.  The  Indians  must  have 
been  after  him. 

We  stayed  no  longer  upon  the  spot,  but  once  more  sending 
the  trackers  forward,  moved  on  after  them. 

We  had  advanced  about  half  a  mile  farther,  when  the  horse- 
tracks,  hitherto  scattered,  and  tending  in  different  directions, 
became  merged  together,  as  though  the  Indians  had  been  ridir.g, 
not  in  single  file — as  is  their  ordinary  method — but  in  an  irreg 
ular  body  of  several  abreast. 

The  trackers,  after  proceeding  along  this  new  trail  for  a  hun 
dred  yards  or  so,  deliberately  drew  up,  and  dismounting,  bent 
down  upon  their  hands  and  knees,  as  if  once  more  to  examine 
the  signs.  The  rest  of  us  halted  a  little  behind,  and  watched 
their  proceedings  without  offering  to  question  them. 

Both  were  observed  to  be  busy  blowing  aside  the  ashes,  not 
from  any  particular  track,  but  from  the  full  breadth  of  the  trail. 

In  a  few  minutes  they  succeeded  in  removing  the  black  dust 
from  a  stretch  of  several  yards — so  that  the  numerous  hoof- 
prints  could  be  distinctly  traced,  side  by  side,  or  overlapping 
and  half  obliterating  one  another. 

Rube  now  returned  to  where  they  had  commenced,  and  then 
once  more  leisurely  advancing  upon  his  knees,  with  eyes  close  to 
the  surface,  appeared  to  scrutinize  the  print  of  every  hoof  sepa 
rately. 

Before  he  had  reached  the  spot  where  Garey  was  still  en 
gaged  in  clearing  off  the  dust,  he  rose  to  his  feet  with  an  air 
that  told  he  was  satisfied,  and  turning  to  his  companion,  cried 
out: 

"  Don't  bother  furrer,  Bill :  it  ur  jest  as  I  thort ;  thay've 
••*ped  'im.  Geehosophat  1" 


THE    STEED    LAZOED. 


CHAPTER  LXXIV. 

THE      STEED      LAZOED. 

Ir  was  not  the  emphatic  tone  in  which  this  announcement .. 
made  that  produced  within  me  conviction  of  its  truth  •  I  should 
have  been  convinced  without  that.  I  was  better  than  half  pre 
pared  for  the  intelligence  thus  rudely  conveyed  ;  for  I  was  my 
self  not  altogether  unskilled  in  that  art  of  which  my  trapper- 
companions  were  masters. 

I  had  observed  the  sudden  convergence  of  the  horse-tracks; 
I  had  noticed,  also,  that  after  coming  together,  the  animals  had 
proceeded  at  a  slow  pace — at  a  walk.  I  needed  only  to  per 
ceive  the  hoof  of  the  steed  among  the  others,  to  know  that  he 
no  longer  ran  free — that  he  was  a  captive. 

This  the  tracker  had  found ;  hence  the  decisive  declaration 
that  the  Indians  had  "  roped  "  him — in  other  words,  had  caught 
him  with  their  lazoes. 

"  Sartint  they've  tuk  'im,"  asserted  Rube,  in  answer  to  an  in 
terrogatory  :  "sartint  sure;  hyur's  his  track  clur  as  daylight. 
He's  been  led  hyur  at  the  end  o'  a  laryette;  he's  been  nigh  the 
middle  o'  the  crowd — some  in  front — some  hev  been  arter  'im — 
thet's  how  they've  gone  past  hyur.  Wagh  !"  continued  the 
speaker,  once  more  turning  his  eyes  upon  the  trail,  "  thur's  been 
a  good  grist  on  'em — twunty  or  more  ;  and  ef  this  child  don't 
miskalkerlate,  thet  ain't  the  hull  o'  the  niggurs  ;  it  ain't.  'Tur 
only  some  o'  'em  as  galliped  out  to  rope  the  hoss.  I'd  lay  my 
nrle  agin  a  Mexican  blunderbox,  thur's  a  bigger  party  than  this 
nigh  at  hand  somewhur  hyur.  By  Geehosophat,  thur's  l<oun  to 
be,  sartint  as  sunup  !" 

The  suspicion  that  had  half  formed  itself  in  my  mind  was  no 


THE   WAR-TUAIL. 

longer  hypothetical  ;  the  sign  upon  the  trail  had  settled  that ; 
it  was  now  a. positive  intelligence — a  conviction.  The  steed  haa 
been  'taken  ;  he  and  his  rider  were  captive  in  the  hands  of  the 
Indians. 

This  knowledge  brought  with  it  a  crowd  of  new  thoughts,  in 
which  emotions  of  the  most  opposite  character  were  mingled 
together. 

The  tirst  was  a  sensation  of  joy.  The  steed  had  been  cap 
tured,  and  by  human  beings.  Indians  at  least  were  men,  and 
possessed  human  hearts.  Though  in  the  rider  they  might  recog 
nize  the  lineaments  of  their  pale-faced  foes — not  co  strongly 
neither — yet  a  woman,  and  in  such  a  dilemma  ;  what  reason 
could  they  have  for  hostility  to  her  ?  None  ;  perhaps  the  very 
opposite  passion  might  be  excited  by  the  spectacle  of  her  help 
less  situation.  They  would  see  before  them  the  victim  of  some 
cruel  revenge — the  act,  too,  of  their  own  enemies  ;  this  would 
be  more  likely  to  inspire  them  with  sympathy  and  pity  ;  they 
would  relieve  her  from  her  perilous  position  ;  would  minister  to 
her  wants  and  wounds  ;  would  tenderly  nurse  and  cherish  her  : 
yes  ;  all  this  I  felt  assured.  They  were  human  ;  how  could  they 
do  otherwise  ? 

Such  was  the  first  rush  of  my  reflections  on  becomi'ng  assured 
that  the  steed  had  been  captured  by  Indians — that  Isolina  was 
in  their  hands.  I  only  thought  of  her  safety — that  she  wa? 
rescued  from  pain  and  peril,  perhaps  from  death  ;  and  the 
thought  was  a  gleam  of  joy. 

Alas  !  only  a  gleam  ;  and  the  reflections  that  followed  \vere 
painfully  bitter. 

I  could  not  help  thinking  of  the  character  of  the  savages  into 
whose  hands  she  had  fallen.  If  they  were  the  same  band  that 
had  harried  the  frontier  town,  then  they  were  southern  Indians — 
Comanche  or  Lipan.  The  report  said  one  or  other  ;  and  it  was 
but  too  probable.  True,  the  remnant  of  Shawanos  and  Dela- 
cvares,  with  the  Kickapoos  and  Texan  Cher  kees,  sometimes 


THE   STEED    LAZOED.  331 

stray  as  far  as  the  banks  of  the  Rio  Grande  ;  but  the  conduct 
was  not  theirs  :  these  tribes,  from  long  intercourse  with  whites, 
have  been  inducted  into  a  sort  of  semi-civilization  ;  and  their 
hereditary  hostility  for  the  pale-face  has  died  out.  Pillage  and 
murder  are  no  longer  their  trade  ;  it  could  not  have  been  they 
who  had  made  the  late  foray.  It  might  have  been  "  Wild  Cat/' 
with  his  wicked  Seminoles,  now  settled  on  the  Texan  frontier  ; 
but  the  act  was  more  in  keeping  with  the  character  of  ths 
mezcal-eating  Apaches,  who  of  late  years  had  been  pushing 
their  expeditions  far  down  the  river.  Even  so — it  mattered 
little;  Apaches  are  but  Comanches,  or  rather  Comanches,  Apa 
che's,  and  whether  the  Indians  on  whose  trail  we  were  standing 
were  one  or  the  other — whether  Apache7,  Lipan,  Comanche,  or 
their  allies  Caygiia,  Waco,  or  Pawnee-Pict,  it  mattered  not  ; 
one  and  all  were  alike  ;  one  or  other  of  them,  my  reflections 
were  bitterly  the  same.  Well  understood  I  the  character  of 
these  red  men  of  the  south  ;  so  far  differing  from  their  kiudreti 
of  the  north — so  far  different  from  that  ideal  type  of  cold  conti 
nence  it  has  pleased  the  poet  and  the  writer  of  romance  to 
ascribe  to  them.  The  reverse  of  the  medal  was  before  my 
mind's  eye  ;  ihe  memory  of  many  a  scene  was  in  my  thoughts, 
of  many  a  tale  I  had  heard,  illustrating  the  uxorious  disposition, 
the  wild;  unbridled  wantonness  of  these  lords  of  the  southern 
plains. 

Not  then  did  I  dwell  long  on  such  thoughts  ;  for  they  had 
their  influence  in  urging  me  onward. 

But  there  was  another  reason  for  our  rapid  advance  :  all  of 
us  were  under  the  extreme  agony  cf  thirst — literally  gasping  for 
water  ;  and  thus  physical  suffering  impelled  us  to  ride  forward 
as  fast  as  our  jaded  horses  could  carry  us  over  the  ground. 

Timber  was  at  length  before  our  eyes,  green  foliage,  looking 
all  the  fresher  and  brighter  from  contrast  with  the  black  plain 
which  it  bounded.  It  was  a  grove  of  cotton-woods,  skirting  a 
prairie-stream  ;  and  beyond  this  the  fire  had  not  extended. 


332  THE    WAJR-TRAIL. 

Wild  joyous  cries  escaped  from  men  and  horses,  as  the.r  eyfla 
rested  upon  the  limpid  stream.  The  men  leaped  out  of  their 
saddles,  and  without  a  thought  of  drowning,  rushed  breast-deep 
into  the  water.  Some  lifted  the  crystal  liquid  in  their  palms  ; 
others,  more  impatient,  bent  down,  and  plunging  their  faces  in 
the  flood,  drank  a  la  mode  du  cheval. 

I  noticed  that  the  trappers  behaved  less  recklessly  than  the 
est  ;  before  going  down  to  drink,  the  eyes  of  both  were  directed, 
with  instinctive,  caution,  along  the  banks,  and  into  the  timber. 

Close  to  where  we  had  halted,  I  observed  a  crossing,  where 
numerous  tracks  of  animals  formed  in  the  soil  a  deep,  well-beaten 
path.  Rube's  eyes  were  upon  it,  and  I  saw  that  they  were 
glistening  with  unusual  excitement. 

"  Told  'ee  so  I"  cried  he,  after  a  short  survey  :  "  yoiider's  thui 
trail — war-trail,  by  the  Eturnal  !" 


CHAPTER    LXXV. 


THE          INDIOS     BRAVOS. 

You  may  be  asking,  what  the  trapper  meant  by  a  war-trail  ? 
it  has  been  a  phrase  of  frequent  occurrence  with  us.  It  is  a 
phrase  of  the  frontier.  Even  at  the  eleventh  hour,  let  me  offer 
its  explanation. 

For  half  a  century — ay,  for  three  centuries  and  more — even 
since  the  conquest  itself — the  northern  frontier  of  Mexico  has 
been  in,  what  is  termed  in  old-fashioned  phraseology,  a  "  dis 
turbed  state."  Though  the  semi-civilized  Aztecs,  and  the  kin 
dred  races  of  town-dwelling  Indians,  easily  yielded  to  the  sword 
of  the  Spanish  conquerors,  far  different  has  been  the  history  of 
the  wild  tribes — the  free  hunters  t)f  the  plains.  Upon  those" 
mighty  steppes  that  occupy  the  whole  central  area  of  the  North 


THE    "iNDIOS    BRAVOS."  S83 

American  continent,  dwell  tribes  of  Indians — nations  they  might 
be  called — who  neither  know,  nor  ever  have  known,  other  rule 
than  that  of  their  own  chieftains.  Even  when  Spain  was  at  her 
strongest,  she  failed  to  subjugate  the  "  Indios  bravos"  of  her 
frontiers,  who  to  the  present  hour  have  preserved  their  wild 
freedom.  I  speak  not  of  the  great  nations  of  the  northern 
prairies — Sioux  and  Cheyenne — Blackfeet  and  Crow — Pawnee 
and  Arapahoe.  With  these  the  Spanish  race  scarcely  came  in 
contact.  I  refer  more  particularly  to  the  tribes  whose  range 
impinges  upon  the  frontiers  of  Mexico — Comanche,  Lipan,  Utah, 
Apache,  and  Navajo. 

It  is  not  in  the  annals  of  Spain  to  prove  that  any  one  of  these 
tribes  ever  yielded  to  her  conquering  sword  ;  and  equally  a  fail 
ure  has  been  the  attempt  to  wheedle  them  into  a  fanatical  civi 
lization  by  the  much  boasted  conquest  of  the  mission.  Free, 
then,  the  prairie  Indians  are  from  white  man's  rule,  and  free 
have  they  been,  as  if  the  keels  of  Columbus  had  never  plowed  the 
Carib  Sea. 

But  although  they  have  preserved  their  independence  for  three 
centuries,  for  three  centuries  have  they  never  known  peace.  Be 
tween  the  red  Indian  and  the  white  Iberian,  along  the  frontier  of 
Northern  Mexico,  a  war-border  has  existed  since  the  days  of  Cor- 
tez  to  the  present  hour — constantly  shifting  north  or  south,  but 
ever  extended  from  east  to  west,  from  ocean  to  ocean,  through  wide 
degrees  of  longitude.  North  of  this  border  ranges  the  "  Indio 
bravo  f  south  of  it  dwells  his  degenerate  and  conquered  kins 
man,  the  "  Indio  manso,"  not  in  the/'  tents,"  but  in  the  towns  of 
his  Spanish  conqueror  ;  the  former  free  as  the  prairie  wind — the 
latter  yoked  to  a  condition  of  "peon"  vassalage,  with  chains  as 
strong  as  those  of  slavery  itself.  The  neutral  belt  ot  hostile 
ground  lies  between — on  the  one  side  guarded  by  a  line  of  gar 
risoned  forts  (presidios),  on  the  other  sheltered  from  attack  b.y 
the  wild  and  waterless  desert. 

t  have  stated  that  this  war-border  has  been  constantly  shift 


384  THE   WAR-TKAIL. 

ing  either  northward  or  southward.  Such  was  its  history  up  tc 
the  beginning  of  the  present  cycle.  Since  then,  a  remarkable 
change  has  been  going  forward  in  the  relative  position  of  Indian 
and  Iberian  ;  and  the  line  of  hostile  ground  has  been  moving 
only  in  one  direction — continually  towards  the  South  !  To  speak 
in  less  poetical  phrase,  the  red  man  has  been  encroaching  upon 
the  territory  of  the  white  man — the  so-called  savage  has  been 
gaining  ground  upon  the  domain  of  civilization.  Not  slowly  or 
gradually,  either,  but  by  gigantic  strides — by  the  conquest  of 
whole  provinces  as  large  as  England  ten  times  told  ! 

I  shall  make  the  announcement  of  a  fact,  or  rather  a  hypothe 
sis — scarcely  well  known,  though  strange  enough.  It  may 
interest,  if  not  surprise,  the  ethnologists.  I  assert,  then,  that 
had  the  four  tribes  of  North  Mexican  Indians — Comanche,  Li- 
pano,  Apache,  and  Navajo — been  left  to  themselves,  in  leas  than 
another  century  they  would  have  driven  the  degenerate  descendants 
of  the  conquerors  of  Cortez  from  the  soil  of  Anahuac  !  I  make 
this  assertion  with  a  full  belief  and  clear  conviction  of  its  truth 
fulness.  The  hypothesis  rests  upon  a  basis  of  realities.  It  would 
require  but  very  simple  logic  to  prove  it  ;  but  a  few  facts  may 
yield  illustration. 

With  the  fall  of  Spanish  rule  in  Mexico,  ended  the  predomin 
ance  of  the  Spaniard  over  the  Indian.  By  revolution  the  presi 
dios  became  shorn  of  their  strength,  and  no  longer  offered  a 
barrier  even  to  the  weakest  incursion.  In  fact,  a  neutral  Hue 
no  more  exists;  whole  provinces — Sonora,  Chihuahua,  Tamau- 
lipas,  Cinaloa,  and  Leon — are  no  better  than  neutral  ground, 
or,  to  speak  more  definitely,  form  an  extended  territory  con 
quered  and  desolated  by  the  Indians.  Even  beyond  these,  into 
the  "  provincias  internas,"  have  the  bold  copper-colored  free 
booters  of  late  carried  their  forays — even  to  the  very  gates  of 
Durango.  Two  hundred  Comanche  warriors,  or  as  many 
Apaches,  fear  not  to  ride  hundreds  of  miles  into  the  heart  of 
civilized  Mexico — hesitate  not  to  attack  a  city  or  a  settlement 


THE    "iNDIOS    BKAVOS."  385 

— scruple  not  to  drag  from  hearth  and  home  lovely  maids  and 
tender  children — only  these — and  carry  them  slave  and  captive 
to  their  wild  fastnesses  in  the  desert!  And  this  is  no  occasional 
foray,  no  long  gathering  outburst  of  revenge  or  retaliation;  but 
an  annual  expedition,  forming  part  of  the  regular  routine  of  the 
year,  and  occurring  at  the  season  when  the  buffalo  have  migrat 
ed  to  the  north— occurring  in  that  month  in  the  calendar  of 
these  aboriginal  brigands,  jocosely  styled  the  "  Mexican  moon!" 

Upon  whose  head  falls  the  blow  thus  periodically  repeated? 
Upon  the  poor  and  unprotected?  No  doubt  you  will  fancy  so. 

A  single  fact  may  serve  to  undeceive  you.  Only  a  few  years 
ago,  Trias,  a  man  of  "  first  family  "  in  Mexico,  and  governor  of 
the  State  of  Chihuahua,  lost  one  of  his  sons  by  an  Indian  foray. 
The  boy  was  taken  prisoner  by  the  Comanches;  and  it  was  only 
after  years  of  negotiation  and  payment  of  a  large  sum,  that  the 
father  recovered  his  child.  Thus  the  governor  of  a  province, 
with  means  and  military  at  his  command,  was  not  powerful 
enough  to  cause  the  surrender  of  his  captive  son :  he  was  forced 
to  buy  him! 

It  is  computed,  that  at  this  moment,  there  are  three  thousand 
white  captives  in  the  hands  of  the  North  Mexican  Indians — 
nearly  all  of  them  of  Spanish  descent.  They  are  mostly  females, 
and  live  as  the  slave-wives  of  their  captors — if  such  connection 
may  be  dignified  by  the  name.  There  are  white  men,  too,  among 
the  Indian  prisoners,  taken  in  their  youth ;  and  strange  as  it  may 
appear,  few  of  them — either  of  the  men  or  women — evince  any 
desire  to  return  to  their  former  life  or  homes.  Some,  when  ran 
somed,  have  refused  the  boon.  Not  uncommon  along  the  frontier 
has  been  witnessed  that  heart-rending  scene — a  father  who  had 
recovered  his  child  from  the  savages,  and  yet  unable  to  reclaim  its 
affection,  or  even  to  arouse  it  to  a  recognition  of  its  parentage. 
In  a  few  years — sometimes  only  months — the  captives  forget 
their  early  ties,  and  become  wedded  to  their  new  life — become 
fndianized. 

17 


386  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

But  a  short  time  before,  an  instance  had  come  nnder  onr  own 
observation.  The  wounded  brave  taken  in  the  skirmish  at  the 
mound,  was  a  full-blooded  Mexican — had  been  carried  off  by 
the  Comanches,  some  years  before,  from  the  settlements  on  the 
Lower  Rio  Grande.  In  consideration  of  this,  we  gave  him  his 
liberty,  under  the  impression  that  he  would  gladly  avail  himself 
of  the  opportunity  to  return  to  his  kindred. 

He  proved  wanting  in  gratitude  as  in  natural  affection.  The 
same  night  on  which  he  was  set  free,  he  took  the  route  back  to 
the  prairies,  mounted  upon  one  of  the  best  horses  of  our  troop, 
which  he  had  stolen  from  its  unfortunate  owner  ! 

Such  are  the  "  Cosas  de  Mexico  " — a  few  of  the  traits  of 
frontier  life  on  the  Rio  Bravo  del  Norte. 

But  what  of  the  war-trail  ?     That  is  not  yet  explained. 

Know  then,  that  from  the  country  of  the  Indians  to  that  of 
the  Mexicans  extend  many  great  paths,  running  for  hundreds 
of  miles  from  point  to  point.  They  follow  the  courses  of  streams 
or  cross  vast  desert  plains,  where  water  is  found  only  at  long  *n- 
tervals  of  distance.  They  are  marked  by  the  tracks  of  mutes, 
horses  and  captives.  Here  and  there  they  are  whitened  by 
bones — the  bones  of  men,  of  women,  of  animals,  that  have  por- 
ished  by  the  way.  Strange  paths  are  these  !  What  are  they, 
and  who  has  made  them  ?  Who  travel  by  these  roads  th»t 
lead  through  the  wild  and  homeless  desert  ? 

Indians  :  they  are  the  paths  of  the  Comanche  and  Caygua 
— the  roads  made  by  their  warriors  during  the  "  Mexican 
moon." 

It  was  upon  one  of  these  that  the  trapper  was  gazing  whei 
he  gave  out  the  emphatic  utterance  : 

"  War-tra^  by  the  Eturnal  1" 


ON   THE   WAR-TRAIL.  387 


CHAPTER     LXXVI. 

ON    THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

SCARCELY  staying  to  quench  my  thirst,  I  led  my  horse  across 
the  stream,  and  commenced  scrutinizing  the  trail  upon  the  oppo 
site  bank.  The  faithful  trackers  were  by  my  side — no  fear  of 
them  lagging  behind. 

I  had  won  the  hearts  of  both  these  men  ;  and  that  they 
would  have  risked  life  to  serve  me,  I  could  no  longer  doubt, 
since  over  and  over  again  they  had  risked  it.  For  Garey, 
strong,  courageous,  handsome  in  the  true  sense,  and  noble- 
hearted,  I  felt  real  friendship,  which  the  young  trapper  recipro 
cated.  For  his  older  comrade,  the  feeling  I  had  was  like  him 
self — indefinable,  indescribable.  It  was  strongly  tinctured  with 
admiration,  but  admiration  of  the  intellectual  rather  than  the 
moral  or  personal  qualities  of  the  man. 

Instead  of  intellectual,  I  should  rather  say  instinctive,  for  his 
keen  intuitive  thoughts  appeared  more  like  instincts  than  the  re 
sults  of  a  process  of  ratiocination. 

That  the  old  trapper  admired  me — in  his  own  phraseology, 
"  liked  me  mightily" — I  was  aware.  He  was  equally  as  zealous 
as  the  younger  in  my  service  ;  but  too  free  an  exhibition  of  zeal 
was  fa  his  eyes  a  weakness,  and  he  endeavoured  to  conceal  it. 
His  admiration  of  myself  was  perhaps  owing  to  the  fact  that  I 
neither  attempted  to  thwart  him  in  his  humors  nor  rival  him 
in  his  peculiar  knowledge — the  craft  of  the  prairie.  In  this  I 
•was  but  his  pupil,  and  behaved  as  such,  generally  deferring  to 
his  judgment. 

Another  impulse  acted  upon  the  trackers — sheer  love  of  the 
part  they  were  now  playing.  Just  as  the  hound  loves  tha 


388  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

trail,  so  did  they  ;  and  hunger,  thirst,  weariness,  one  or  all 
must  be  felt  to  an  extreme  degree  before  they  would  voluntarily 
forsake  it. 

Scarcely  staying,  therefore,  to  quench  their  thirst,  they  fol 
lowed  me  out  of  the  water  ;  and  all  three  of  us  together  bent 
our  attention  to  the  sign. 

It  was  a  war-trail — a  true  war-trail.  There  was  not  the  track 
of  a  dog — not  the  drag  of  a  lodge-pole  upon  it.  Had  it  been  a 
moving  encampment  of  peaceable  Indians,  these  signs  would  have 
been  visible  ;  moreover,  there  would  have  been  seen  numerous 
footsteps  of  Indian  women — of  squaws  ;  for  the  slave-wife  of 
the  lordly  Comanche  is  compelled  to  traverse  the  prairies  a  pied, 
loaded  like  the  pack-horse  that  follows  at  her  heels  ! 

But  though  no  foot-prints  of  Indian  women  appeared,  there 
were  tracks  of  women,  scores  of  them,  plainly  imprinted  in  the 
soil  of  the  river-bank.  Those  slender  impressions,  scarcely  a 
span  in  length,  smoothly  moulded  in  the  mud,  were  not  to  be 
mistaken  for  the  footsteps  of  an  Indian  squaw.  There  was  not 
the  wide  divergence  at  the  heels — the  toes  turned  inward  ; 
neither  was  there  the  moccasin-print.  No  ;  those  tiny  tracks 
must  have  been  made  by  women  of  that  nation  who  possess 
the  smallest  and  prettiest  feet  in  the  world — by  women  of 
Mexico. 

"  Captives  !"  we  exclaimed,  as  soon  as  our  eyes  rested  upon 
the  tracks. 

"  Ay,  poor  critters  !"  said  Rube,  sympathizingly;  "  the  cussed 
niggurs  hev  made  'em  fut  it,  while  thur's  been  spare  hosses  a 
plenty.  Wagh  !  a  good  wheen  o'  weemen  thur's  been — a  score 
on  'em  at  the  least.  Wagh  !  I  pity  'em  poor  gurls  !  in  sech 
kumpny  as  they've  got  into.  It  ur  a  life  they've  got  to  lead 
Wagh  !" 

Rube  did  not  reflect  how  heavily  his  words  were  falling  upon 
my  heart. 

There  were  the  tracks  of  more  than  a  hundred  horses,  and  as 


ON   THE   WAR-TRAIL.  389 

many  mules.  Some  of  both  were  iron-shod  ;  but  for  all  that 
we  knew  they  had  been  either  ridden  or  driven  by  Indians;  they, 
too,  were  captives 

The  sign  helped  my  companions  to  much  knowledge  that  would 
have  been  unintelligible  to  me.  It  was  certainly  the  path  of  a 
war-party  of  Indians  on  the  lack  track.  They  were  laden  with 
plunder,  and  driving  before  them,  or  forcing  to  follow,  a  crowd 
of  captives — horses,  mules,  and  women — children,  too,  for  we 
saw  the  tiny  foot-marks  of  tender  age.  The  trail  was  significant 
of  all  this — even  to  me. 

But  my  comrades  saw  more;  they  no  longer  doubted  that  the 
Indians  were  Comanches — a  moccasin  had  been  picked  up,  a 
castaway,  and  the  leathern  tassel  attached  to  the  heel,  declared 
the  tribe  to  which  its  wearer  belonged  to  be  the  Comanche. 

The  trail  was  quite  fresh;  that  is,  but  a  few  hours  had  inter 
vened  since  the  Indians  passed  along  it.  Notwithstanding 
the  dryness  of  the  atmosphere,  the  mud  on  the  river-edge  had 
not  yet  become  "skinned,"  as  the  trappers  expressed  it.  The 
Indians  had  forded  the  stream  about  the  time  the  prairie  was  set 
on  fire. 

The  horses  we  had  been  following  across  the  burnt  plain  were 
those  of  a  party  who  had  gone  out  in  pursuit  of  the  steed.  Just 
at  the  ford  they  had  overtaken  the  main  body,  who  carried  along 
the  spoil  and  captives.  From  that  point,  all  had  advanced  to 
gether. 

Had  they  done  so  ?  This  was  our  first  object  of  inquiry.  It 
was  almost  too  probable  to  admit  of  a  doubt;  but  we  desired  to 
be  certain  about  a  matter  of  such  primary  importance,  and  we 
looked  for  the  hoof  with  the  piece  chipped  from  its  edge — easily 
to  be  identified  by  all  of  us.  In  the  muddy  margin  of  the  stream 
we  could  not  find  it;  but  the  steed  may  have  been  led  or  ridden 
in  front  of  the  rest,  and  his  tracks  trampled  out  by  the  thick 
drove  that  followed. 

At  this  moment  Stanfield  came  up  and  joined  us  in  the  exami 


590  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

aation.  The  ranger  had  scarcely  bent  his  eyes  on  the  trait, 
when  a  significant  exclamation  escaped  him.  He  stood  pointing 
downward  to  the  track  of  a  shod  horse. 

"  My  horse  !"  cried  he;  "  my  horse  Hickory,  by  Gosh  I" 

"  Your  horse  ?" 

"  May  I  never  see  Kaintuck  if  it  aint." 

"  Yur  sure  o'  it,  ole  boss  ?  yur  sure  it's  yurn  ?" 

11  Sure  as  shootin' ;  I  shod  him  myself.  I  kid  tell  that  ere 
track  on  a  dry  sand-bar.  I  know  every  nail  thar;  I  druv  'em 
wi'  my  own  hand — it's  him  sartin." 

"  Wheeo-o  !"  whistled  Rube,  in  his  significant  way,  "  thet 
makes  things  a  leetle  plainer,  I  reck'n ;  an'  so  I  thort  all  along— 
an'  so  I  thort — ye-es — so  I  thort.  The  durned  rennygade  nig 
gur  !"  he  added,  with  angry  emphasis,  "  I  know'd  we  dud 
wrong  to  let  'im  go;  we  oughter  served  ?im  as  I  perposed;  we 
oughter  cut  his  durnation  throat,  an'  scalped  'im  the  minnut  we 
tuk  'im :  cuss  the  luck  thet  we  didn't  !  Wagh  1" 

Rube's  words  needed  n-o  interpretation.  We  knew  whose 
throat  he  would  have  cut — that  of  the  Indianized  Mexican  taken 
at  the  mesa  ;  and  I  remembered  that  at  the  time  of  his  capture 
such  had  been  Rube's  advice — overruled,  of  course,  by  the  more 
merciful  of  his  comrades.  The  trapper  had  assigned  some  rea 
son  :  he  knew  something  of  the  man's  history. 

He  now  repeated  his  reasons : 

"  He  ur  a  true  rennygade,"  said  he  ;  "  an'  thur  aint  on  all  the 
parairas  a  wusser  enemy  to  whites  than  thet  ur — more  partik- 
lurly  to  Texan  whites.  He  wur  at  the  massacree  o'  Wilson's 
family  on  the  clur  fork  o'  the  Brazos,  an'  wur  conspik'us  in  the 
skrimraage;  a'  more  too — it  ur  thort  he  toated  off  one  o'  Wilson's 
gurls,  an'  made  a  squaw  o'  her,  for  he's  mighty  given  thet  way, 
I've  heern.  Wagh  I  he  ur  wuss  than  a  Injun,  for  the  reezun 
thet  he  unerstane  the  ways  o'  the  whites.  I  never  know'd  sich 
a  foolish  thing  -as  ter  let  'im  git  clur.  'Ee  may  thank  yur  luck, 
Mister  Stannafeel,  thet  he  didn't  take  ^ur  har  at  the  same 


THE   WKITING   ON   THE   MAGUEY.  391 

time  when  he  wur  a-takin'  o'  yur  hoss.  Wagh  1  thet  yc 
may  |» 

It  was  Stanfield's  horse  that  had  been  stolen  by  the  renegade, 
and  the  tracks  now  identified  by  the  ranger  were  those  of  tho,t 
animal — no  doubt  with  the  freebooter  upon  his  back. 

This  new  discovery  let  in  a  flood  of  light.  Beyond  a  doubt 
the  war-party  was  the  same  we  had  met  by  the  mound,  with 
perhaps  a  reinforcement;  the  same  that  had  just  plundered  the 
Mexican  town  ;  the  same  who  had  paid  their  horrid  visit  to  the 
hacienda,  and  this  renegade 

Ha !  Strange  remembrances  were  crowding  into  my  brain. 
I  remembered  meeting  this  semi-savage  skulking  about  the  road. 
after  w«  had  granted  him  his  parole;  I  remembered,  upon  one 
occasion,  seeing  him  while  riding  out  with  her;  I  remembered  the 
rude  expression  with  which  he  had  regarded  my  companion — 
the  glance  half  fierce  half  lustful ;  I  remembered  that  it  made 
me  angry;  that  I  rebuked  and  threatened  him — I  now  remem 
bered  all. 

Wild  thoughts  came  rushing  into  my  mind — worse  thoughts 
than  ever. 

I  sprang  to  my  saddle,  and  calling  out  some  half-coherent 
orders,  rode  rapidly  along  the  trail. 


CHAPTER    LXXYIL 

THE  WRITING  ON  THE  MAGUEY. 

THE  skill  of  the  trackers  was  no  longer  called  in  need.  The 
war-trail  was  as  easily  followed  as  a  toll-road.  A  blind  mau 
could  have  guided  himself  along  such  a  well-trodden  highway. 

Our  rate  of  speed  was  now  ruled  by  the  capacity  of  our  horses 


THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

Alas  I  their  power  was  nearly  at  an  end.  They  had  been  two 
days  and  a  night  under  the  saddle,  with  but  a  few  hours  to 
refresh  themselves  by  food  or  rest — they  could  not  hold  out 
much  longer. 

One  by  one,  they  began  to  lag,  until  the  greater  number  of 
them  followed  with  tottering  step  hundreds  of  yards  in  the  rear. 
It  was  in  vain  to  contend  against  nature.  The  men  were  still 
willing,  though  they,  too,  were  wearied  to  death  ;  but  their 
horses  were  quite  done  up — even  whip  and  spur  could  force 
them  no  farther.  Only  my  own  matchless  steed  could  have  con 
tinued  the  journey.  Alone,  I  might  have  advanced,  but  that 
would  have  been  madness.  What  could  I  have  accomplished 
alone  ? 

Night  was  fast  coming  down — it  was  already  twilight.  I  saw 
by  the  clouded  sky  we  should  have  no  moon.  We  might  follow 
the  trail  with  our  waxen  torches — not  yet  burned  out — but  that 
would  no  longer  be  safe.  For  myself,  I  was  reckless  enough  to 
have  risked  life  in  any  way,  but  the  lives  of  my  comrades  were 
not  mine.  I  could  not  give  them — I  should  not  wastefully  flins; 
them  away. 

Reluctantly,  I  glided  from  my  saddle,  gave  my  horse  to  the 
grass,  and  sat  down  upon  the  earth.  My  followers,  coming  up, 
said  not  a  word,  but,  picketing  their  horses,  seated  themselves 
around  me.  One  by  one,  they  stretched  themselves  along  the 
sward,  and  in  ten  minutes  all  were  asleep. 

I  alone  could  not  sleep — the  fever  of  unrest  was  upon  me — 
the  demon  of  thought  would  not  let  me  close  my  eyes.  Though 
my  orbs  ached  with  the  long  protracted  vigil,  I  thought  that  not 
"all  the  drowsy  syrups  of  the  world"  could  have  given  repose 
to  my  nerves.  I  felt  as  one  who  suffers  under  delirium  produced 
by  the  intoxicating  cup — the  fearful  mania-a-potia.  I  could 
neither  sleep  nor  rest. 

I  could  not  even  remain  seated.  I  rose  to  my  feet  and 
wandered  around,  without  heed  of  where  I  was  going.  I  strode 


THE   WRITING   ON   THE   MAGUEY.  393 

over  the  recumbent  forms  of  my  sleeping  companions  ;  I  went 
among  the  horses  ;  I  paced  backwards  and  forwards  along  the 
bank  of  the  stream. 

There  was  a  stream — a  small  arroyo  or  rivulet.  It  was  this 
that  had  caused  me  to  halt  in  that  particular  spot  ;  for,  wild  as 
were  my  thoughts,  I  had  enough  of  reason  left  to  know  that  we 
could  not  encamp  without  water.  The  sight  of  the  arroyo  had 
decided  my  wavering  resolution  ;  and  upon  its  bank,  almost 
mechanically,  I  had  drawn  bridle  and  dismounted. 

I  once  more  descended  to  the  bed  of  the  stream  ;  and  raising 
the  water  in  the  palms  of  my  hands,  repeatedly  applied  it  to 
my  lips  and  temples.  The  cool  liquid  refreshed  me,  and  seemed 
to  soothe  both  my  nerves  and  my  spirit.  After  a  time  both  fel< 
calmer,  and  I  sat  down  upon  the  bank,  and  watched  for  a  while 
the  clear  rivulet  rippling  past  over  its  bed  of  yellow  sand  ano 
glistening  pebbles  of  quartz.  The  water  was  perfectly  diapha- 
rous  ;  and  though  the  sun  was  no  longer  shining,  I  could  seu 
tiny  silver-fish,  of  the  genus  hyodon,  sporting  themselves  in  the 
depths  of  the  pool.  How  I  envied  them  their  innocent  gambols 
— their  life  of  crystal  purity  and  freedom  !  Here  in  this  remote 
prairie  stream  dwelt  not  the  alligator,  nor  the  ravenous  garfish 
— here  came  no  dolphin  or  shark  to  chase  them — no  tyrant  of 
the  deep  to  put  them  in  fear.  Envious,  indeed,  such  an  insou 
ciant  happy  existence. 

I  watched  them  for  a  long  while,  till  I  thought  that  my  cyea 
were  growing  heavy,  and  after  all  I  might  sleep.  The  murmur 
of  the  arroyo  helped  to  increase  this  propensity  for  repose, 
and  perhaps  I  might  have  slept  ;  but,  at  this  moment,  chancing 
to  look  around,  my  eyes  fell  upon  an  object  that  again  drove 
sleep  far  away,  and  I  was  soon  as  wakeful  as  ever. 

Close  to  my  elbow  where  I  had  seated  myself,  grew  a  large 
plant  of  the  Mexican  aloe  (agave  Americana).  It  was  the  wild 
maguey,  but  of  a  species  with  broad,  fleshy  leaves,  of  a  dark 
green  color — somewhat  resembling  the  maguey  of  ciltiva+ioix 

17* 


894:  THE   WAR-TKAIL. 

I  noticed  that  one  of  the  great  blades  of  the  plant  was  bruised 
down,  and  the  spine  which  had  terminated  it,  torn  off. 

All  this  would  not  have  drawn  my  attention.  I  was  already 
aware  that  the  Indians  had  made  a  halt  where  we  were  encamped, 
and  their  sign  was  plenteous  around,  tracks  of  their  animals,  and 
the  broken  branches  of  trees.  One  of  their  horses  or  mules 
might  have  munched  at  the  maguey  in  passing  ;  and  viewing  the 
bruised  blade  from  a  distance,  I  should  have  hazarded  such  a  con 
jecture.  But  my  eyes  were  close  to  the  plant,  and  to  my  aston 
ishment,  I  observed  that  there  was  writing  upon  the  leaf ! 

I  turned  over  upon  my  knees,  and  seizing  the  huge  blade, 
bent  it  down  before  me,  so  as  to  obtain  a  better  view  of  its  sur 
face.     I  read  : 

II  Captured  by  Comanches — a  war  party — have  many  captives — 
women  and  children — ay  de  mi !  pobres  Ninas  ! — north-west  from 
this  place — saved  from  death,  alas  I  I  fear  " 

The  writing  ended  abruptly.  There  was  no  signature  ;  but  it 
needed  not  that.  I  had  no  doubts  about  who  was  the  writer, 
rude  as  was  the  chirography,  from  the  materials  used.  I  easily 
identified  the  hand.  It  was  Isolina  de  Yargas  who  had  written. 

I  saw  that  she  had  torn  off  the  terminal  spine,  and,  using  it 
as  a  stylns,  had  graven  those  characters  upon  the  epidermis  of 
the  plan*. 

Sweet,  noble  spirit  !  under  any  guise  I  could  have  recognized 
its  outpouring. 

"  Saved  from  death  !"— thank  Heaven  for  that  1  "Alas,  I 
fear  " — Oh,  what  feared  she  ?  Was  it  worse  than  death  ? — tkat 
terrible  fate,  too  terrible  to  think  of  ? 

She  had  broken  off  without  finishing  the  sentence.  Why  had 
she  done  so  ? — the  sheet  was  broad — would  have  held  many 
more  words.  Why  had  she  not  written  more  ?  Did  she  dread 
to  tell  the  cause  of  her  fear  ?  or  had  she  been  interrupted  by 
the  approach  of  some  of  her  tyrant  captors  ?  O  merciful  Hea 
ven  1  save  me  from  thought  ! 


THE   SOUTHERN    SAVAGE.  395 

1  re-read  the  words  over  and  over.  I  examined  the  other 
leaves  of  the  plant ;  on  both  sides,  concave  and  convex,  1 
examined  them  ;  there  was  nothing  more.  Not  a  word  more 
could  I  find.  What  I  had  read  was  all  she  had  written. 


CHAPTER     LXXYIII. 

THE    SOUTHERN    SAVAGE. 

I  NEED  not  tell  how  deeply  I  was  affected  by  the  unexpected 
communication.  All  at  once  were  decided  a  variety  of  doubts. 
All  at  once  was  I  made  aware  of  the  exact  situation. 

Isolina  still  lived — that  was  no  longer  doubtful  ;  and  the 
knowledge  produced  joy.  More  than  this  :  she  was  still  unin 
jured — able  to  think,  to  act,  to  write — not  only  living,  but  well. 
The  singular  "billet"  was  proof. 

Another  point :  her  hands  must  have  been  free — her  hands, 
at  least — else  how  could  she  have  traced  those  lines  ?  It  argued 
indulgence,  or  tender  treatment,  on  the  part  of  her  captors. 

Another  point  yet.  She  knew  I  was  in  pursuit.  She  had  seen 
me  then,  as  I  galloped  after.  It  was  her  cry  I  had  heard  as  the 
horse  dashed  into  the  chapparal.  She  had  recognized  me,  and 
called  back. 

She  knew  I  would  still  be  following.  She  knew  I  was  follow 
ing  ;  and  for  me  was  the  writing  meant.  Sweet,  subtle  spirit ! 

Once  more  I  devoured  the  welcome  words  ;  but  my  heart 
grew  heavy  as  I  pondered  over  them.  What  had  caused  her 
to  break  off  so  abruptly  ?  What  was  it  her  intention  to  have 
said  ?  Of  what  was  she  in  fear  ?  It  was  my  conjectures  about 
this  that  caused  the  heaviness  upon  my  heart.  I  gave  way  to 
borrid  imaginings. 

Naturally  my  thoughts  reverted  to  her  captors  ;  naturally  I 


396  THE    WAE-TRAIL. 

reflected  upon  the  character  of  the  prairie  savage,  so  different 
from  that  of  the  forest  Indian — opposite  as  is  the  aspect  of  their 
homes,  and  perhaps  influenced  by  this  very  cause,  though  there 
are  many  others.  Climate  ;  contact  with  Spanish  civilization, 
so  distinct  from  Saxon  ;  the  horse  ;  conquest  over  white  foes  ; 
concubinage  with  white  and  beautiful  women,  the  daughters  of 
the  race  of  Andalusia — all  these  have  combined  to  produce  in 
the  southern  Indian  a  spiritual  existence  that  more  resembles 
Andalusia  than  England — more  like  to  Mexico  than  Boston  or 
New  York. 

There  is  not  so  much  difference  between  Paris  and  the  prai 
ries — between  the  habitue  of  the  Bal  Mabille,  and  the  horse- 
Indian  of  the  plains.  No  cold  ascetic  this — no  romantic  savage, 
alike  celebrated  for  silence  and  continence,  but  a  true  voluptu 
ary,  gay  of  thought  and  free  of  tongue,  amorous,  salacious, 
immoral.  In  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  the  young  Comanche  is  a 
boastful  Lothario  as  any  flaneur  that  may  be  met  upon  the 
Boulevards  ;  the  old,  a  lustful  sinner  ;  women  the  idol  of  both. 

Among  Comanches,  woman  is  the  constant  theme  of  conversa 
tion — their  motive  for  every  act.  For  them,  they  throw  the 
prairie  dice — for  them,  they  race  their  swift  mustangs.  To  win 
them,  they  paint  in  hideous  guise  ;  to  buy  them,  they  steal 
horses  ;  to  capture  them,  they  go  to  war  ! 

And  yet,  with  all  their  wanton  love,  they  are  true  tyrants  to 
the  sex.  Wife  they  have  none  ;  for  it  would  be  sheer  sacrilege 
to  apply  this  noble  title  to  the  "  squaw"  of  a  Comanche.  Mis 
tress  is  scarce  a  fitter  term — rather  say  slave.  Hers  is  a  nard 
lot,  indeed.  Hers  it  is  to  hew  the  wood  and  draw  the  water  ; 
to  strike  the  tent  and  pitch  it  ;  to  lead  the  horse,  and  pack  tho 
dog  ;  to  grain  the  skin,  and  cure  the  meat ;  to  plant  the  maize, 
the  melon,  squash — to  hoe  and  reap  them  ;  to  wait  obsequious 
on  her  lounging  lord,  anticipate  his  whim  or  wish  ;  be  true  to 
iiim,  or  lose  her  ears  or  nose — for  such  horrid  forfeiture  is  bv 
Oomanche  custom  the  punishment  for  conjugal  infidelity  ! 


THE    SOUTHERN    SAVAGE.  397 

But  hard  as  is  the  lot  of  the  native  wife,  harder  still  is  that 
of  the  white  captive.  Tis  hers  to  endure  all  the  ills  enumer 
ated,  with  still  another — the  hostility  of  the  *'  squaw  "  herself 
The  white  captive  is  truly  the  slave  of  a  slave — the  victim  of  a 
treble  antipathy — of  race,  of  color,  of  jealousy.  Ofttimes  is  she 
beaten,  abused,  mutilated;  and  rarely  does  her  apathetic  lord 
interfere  to  protect  her  from  this  feminine  but  tiend-like  persecu 
tion. 

These  were  not  imaginings — they  were  not  fancies  begot  in 
my  own  brain — would  they  had  been  so!  Too  well  did  I  know 
they  were  facts — horrid  realities. 

Can  you  wonder  that  sleep  was  shaken  from  my  eye-lids? 
that  I  could  not  think  of  rest  or  stay,  till  I  had  delivered  my 
loved  one — my  betrothed — from  the  dangers  of  such  a  destiny? 

All  thought  of  sleep  was  banished — even  weariness  forsook 
me.  I  felt  fresh  as  if  I  had  slept;  my  nerves  were  strung  for 
emprise.  It  was  excitement  renewed  by  what  I  had  read — the 
impatience  of  a  new  and  keen  apprehension. 

I  would  have  mounted  and  gone  forward,  spurning  both  rest 
and  sleep — regardless  of  danger  would  I  have  followed — but 
what  could  I  do  alone? 

Aye,  and  what  with  my  few  followers?  Ha!  I  had  not 
thought  of  this — up  to  that  moment  I  had  not  put  this  impor 
tant  question,  and  I  had  need  to  reflect  upon  the  answer. 
What  if  we  should  overtake  the  band  of  brigands?  Booty- 
laden  as  they  were,  and  cumbered  with  captives,  surely  we 
should  come  up  with  them,  by  night  or  by  day;  but  what  then? 
Aye,  what  then?  There  were  nine  of  us,  and  we  were  in  pursuit 
of  a  war  party  of  at  least  one  hundred  ia  number!  one  hundred 
braves  armed  and  equipped  for  battle — the  choice  warriors  of 
their  tribe — flushed  with  late  success,  and  vengeful  against  our 
selves  on  account  of  former  defeat.  If  conquered,  we  need  look 
for  no  mercy  at  their  hands  ;  if  conquered — how  could  it  be 
otherwise?  ISine  against  a  hundred!  How  could  we  conquer? 


398  THE   WAR-TKAIL. 

Up  to  this  moment  I  had  not  thought  of  the  result — I  was 
borne  along  by  only  one  impulse — the  idea  of  overtaking  the 
steed,  and  rescuing  his  rider.  It  was  only  within  the  hour  that 
her  peril  had  assumed  a  new  phase — only  an  hour  since  we  had 
learnt  that  she  had  escaped  from  one  danger  to  be  brought 
within  the  influence  of  another. 

At  first  had  I  felt  joy,  but  the  feeling  was  of  short  existence 
I  recognized  in  the  new  situation  a  greater  peril  than  that  she 
had  outlived:  she  had  been  rescued  from  death  to  become  the 
victim  of  dishonor. 


CHAPTER   LXXIX. 

A     SUBTERRANEAN     FIRE. 

IN  the  midst  of  my  meditations,  night  descended  upon  the 
earth.  It  promised  to  be  a  moonless  night.  A  robe  of  sable 
clouds  formed  a  sombre  lining  to  the  sky,  and  through  this 
neither  moon  nor  star  were  visible. 

It  grew  darker  apace,  until  in  the  dim  fight  I  could  scarce 
distinguish  the  forms  of  my  companions — neither  men  nor  horses 
— though  both  were  near  me. 

The  men  were  still  asleep,  stretched  along  the  grass  in  various 
attitudes,  like  so  many  bodies  upon  a  battle-field.  The  horses 
were  too  hungry  to  sleep — the  constant  "  crop-crop  "  told  that 
they  were  greedily  browsing  upon  the  sward  of  granna  grass 
that,  by  good  fortune,  grew  luxuriantly  around.  This  would  be 
tbe  best  rest  for  them,  and  I  was  glad  to  think  that  this  splen 
did  provender  would,  in  a  few  hours,  recruit  their  strength.  It 
was  the  chondrosium  paneum — the  favorite  food  of  horses  and 
cattle,  and  in  its  effects  upon  their  condition  almost  equal  to  the 
bean  or  the  oat.  T  knew  it  would  soon  freshen  the  jaded  anl- 


A    SUBTERRANEAN   FIRE.  399 

Dials,  and  make  them  ready  for  the  road.  At  least  in  this  there 
was  some  consolation. 

.Notwithstanding  the  pre-occupation  of  my  thoughts,  I  began 
to  experience  a  physical  discomfort,  which,  despite  the  low  lati< 
tude,  is  often  felt  upon  the  southern  prairie — cold.  A  chill 
breeze  had  set  in  with  the  night,  which  in  half  an  hour  jecame 
a  strong  and  violent  wind,  increasing  in  coldness  as  in  strength 
In  that  half  hour  the  thermometer  must  have  fallen  at  least 
fifty  Fahrenheit  degrees — and  such  a  phenomenon  is  not  rare 
upon  the  plains  of  Texas.  The  wind  was  the  well-known 
"  norther,"  which  often  kills  both  men  and  animals,  that  chance 
to  be  exposed  to  its  icy  breath. 

I  have  endured  the  rigor  of  a  Canadian  winter — ha,ve  crossed 
the  frozen  lakes — have  slept  upon  a  snow  wreath  amidst  the 
wild  wastes  of  Rupert's  Land,  but  I  cannot  remember  cold 
more  intensely  chilling  than  that  I  have  suffered  in  a  Texan 
norther.  This  extreme  does  not  arise  from  the  actual  depression 
of  the  thermometer — which  at  best  is  but  a  poor  indicator  of 
either  heat  or  cold — I  mean  the  sensation  of  either.  It  is  more 
probably  the  contrast  arising  from  the  sudden  change — the 
exposure — the  absence  of  proper  clothing  or  shelter — the  state 
of  the  blood  with  other  like  circumstances,  that  cause  an  ex 
treme  temperature  to  be  more  sensibly  felt.  I  had  ofttimes 
experienced  the  chill  blast  of  the  norther,  but  never  more 
acutely  than  upon  that  night.  The  day  had  been  sweltering 
hot — the  thermometer  at  noon  ranging  about  the  one  hundreth 
degree,  while  in  the  first  hour  of  darkness  it  could  not  have  been 
far  above  the  twentieth.  Had  I  judged  by  my  sensations,  I 
should  have  put  it  even  lower — certainly  it  had  passed  the 
freezing  point,  and  sharp  sleet  and  hail  were  borne  upon  the 
wings  of  the  wind.  With  nerves  deranged  from  want  of  rest 
and  sleep — after  the  hot  day's  march — after  the  perspiration 
produced  by  long  exposure  upon  the  heated  surface  of  the  burnt 
prairie— I  perhaps  felt  the  cold  more  acutely  than  I  should 


400  THE   WAE-TKAIL. 

otherwise  have  done.     My  blood  seemed  to  stagnate  and  freeze 
within  ray  veins. 

I  was  fain  to  wrap  around  my  body  a  buffalo  robe  which  some 
careless  savage  had  dropped  upon  the  trail.  My  followers  were 
not  so  well  furnished.  Starting  as  we  had  done  without  any 
thought  of  being  absent  for  the  night,  no  preparation  had  been 
made  for  camping  out.  Only  a  few  of  them  chanced  to  have 
their  blankets  strapped  upon  the  cantles  of  their  saddles.  These 
were  now  the  fortunate  ones. 

The  norther  had  roused  all  of  them  from  their  slumbers — had 
awaked  them  as  suddenly  as  douches  of  cold  water  would  have 
have  done  ;  and  one  and  all  were  groping  about  in  the  darkness 
— some  seeking  for  their  blankets — some  for  such  shelter  as  was 
afforded  by  the  lee  side  of  the  bushes. 

Fortunately,  there  were  saddle  blankets,  and  these  were 
soon  dragged  from  the  backs  of  the  horses.  The  poor  brutes 
themselves  suffered  equally  with  their  owners.  They  stood 
cowering 'under  the  cold,  with  their  hips  to  the  cutting  blast, 
r their  limbs  drawn  close  together,  and  their  flanks  shaggy  and 
shining.  Some  sheltered  themselves  behind  the  bushes,  scarce 
caring  to  touch  the  grass  at  their  feet. 

It  would  have  been  easy  enough  to  make  a  fire — there 
was  dry  wood  in  plenty  near  the  spot,  and  of  the  best  kind 
for  burning — the  large  species  of  mezquite.  Some  of  the  men 
were  for  kindling  fires  at  once,  regardless  of  consequences, 
but  this  design  was  overruled  by  the  more  prudent  of  the  party. 
The  trappers  were  strongly  against  it.  Cold  as  was  the  night 
and  dark,  they  knew  that  neither  the  norther  nor  the  darkness 
would  deter  Indians  from  being  abroad.  A  party  might  be  out 
upon  the  prowl — the  very  buffalo  skin  we  had  picked  up  might 
bring  a  squad  of  them  back — for  it  was  the  grand  robe  of 
some  warrior,  whose  whole  life-history  was  delineated  in  hiero 
glyphical  painting  upon  its  inner  surface.  To  have  made  a  fire 
might  have  cost  us  our  lives. 


A    SUBTERRANEAN    FIRE.  401 

So  alleged  the  trappers  Rube  and  Garey.  It  would  be 
better  to  endure  the  cold,  than  risk  our  scalps — thus  counselled 
they. 

But  for  all  that,  Rube  had  no  idea  of  being  starved  to  death. 
He  could  kindle  a  fire,  and  burn  it  upon  an  open  prairie,  without 
the  least  fear  of  its  being  seen ;  and  in  a  few  minutes'  time  he 
had  succeeded  in  making  one,  that  could  not  have  been  discerned 
by  the  most  sharp-sighted  Indian  in  creation. 

I  had  watched  the  operation  with  some  interest. 

He  first  collected  a  quantity  of  dead  leaves,  dry  grass,  and 
short  sticks  of  the  mezquite  tree — all  of  which  he  placed  under 
his  saddle-blanket  to  prevent  the  rain  and  sleet  from  wetting 
them.  This  done,  he  drew  out  his  bowie  knife,  and,  with  the 
blade,  "  croued "  a  hole  into  the  turf  about  a  foot  deep,  and 
ten  inches  or  a  foot  in  diameter.  In  the  bottom  of  this  .hole  he 
placed  the  grass  and  leaves,  having  first  ignited  them  by  means 
of  his  flint,  steel  and  "punk"  tinder — all  of  which  implements 
formed  part  of  the  contents  of  Rube's  pouch  and  possible  sack 
au  present.  On  the  top  of  the  now  blazing  leaves  and  grass, 
he  placed  the  dry  sticks,  first  the  smaller  ones  and  then  those 
of  larger  dimensions,  until  the  hole  was  filled  up  to  the  brim,  and 
over  all  he  laid  the  piece  of  turf  originally  cut  from  the  surface, 
and  which  fitted  as  neatly  as  a  lid. 

His  furnace  being  now  finished,  the  trapper  "  hunkered  '• 
down  close  to  its  edge  in  such  a  position  as  to  embrace  the 
fire  between  his  thighs,  and  have  it  nearly  under  him.  He 
then  drew  his  old  blanket  over  his  shoulders,  allowing  it  to 
droop  behind  until  he  had  secured  it  under  the  salient  points 
of  his  lank,  angular  hips.  In  front  he  passed  the  blanket  over 
liis  knees,  and  both  ends,  reaching  the  ground,  were  griped 
tightly  between  his  toes. 

The  contrivance  was  complete,  and  there  sat  the  old  trapper 
like  a  hand-glass  over  a  plant  of  spring  rhubarb,  a  slight  smoke 
oozing  through  the  apertures  of  his  scant  blanket,  and  curling 


402  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

up  around  his  "  ears,"  as  though  he  was  hatching  upon  a  hot 
bed.  But  no  fire  could  be  seen,  though  Rube  shivered  no 
longer. 

He  soon  found  imitators.  The  young  trapper  had  already 
constructed  a  similar  furnace,  and  the  others  were  soon  warming 
themselves  by  this  simple  but  ingenious  device. 

I  did  not  disdain  to  avail  myself  of  the  extra  "shaft"  which 
the  kind-hearted  Garey  had  sunk  for  my  accommodation,  and 
having  placed  myself  by  its  side,  and  drawn  the  ample  robe 
over  my  shoulders,  I  felt  as  warm  as  if  seated  in  front  of  a  sea- 
coal  fire. 

Under  other  circumstances,  I  might  have  joined  in  the  merri 
ment  produced  in  my  companions  by  the  ludicrous  spectacle 
which  we  presented.  A  comic  spectacle  indeed — nine  of  us 
squatted  at  intervals  over  the  ground — the  blue  smoke  escaping 
through  the  interstices  of  our  robes  and  blankets,  and  rising 
around  our  heads,  as  though  one  and  all  of  us  were  on  fire  ! 

Wind,  sleet  and  darkness  continued  throughout  the  whole 
night — cold  wind,  sharp  icy  sleet  and  black  darkness,  that 
seemed  palpable  to  the  touch.  Ever  so  eager,  ever  so  fresh,  we 
could  not  have  advanced  along  the  trail.  Grand  war-trail  as  it 
was,  it  could  not  have  been  traced  under  that  amorphous 
obscurity,  and  we  had  no  means  of  carrying  a  light,  even  had  it 
been  safe  to  do  so.  We  had  no  lantern,  and  the  norther, 
with  one  blast,  would  have  whisked  out  a  torch  of  pitch-pine. 

We  thought  no  more  of  going  forward,  until  either  the  day 
should  break,  or  the  fierce  storm  should  lull. 

At  midnight  we  replenished  our  fires,  and  remained  on  the 
ground.  Hail,  rain,  wind  and  darkness.  My  companions  rested 
their  heads  upon  their  knees,  or  nodding,  slept.  No  sleep  for 
me — not  even  the  repose  of  thought.  Like  some  fevered  sufferer 
on  his  wakeful  couch,  T  counted  the  hours — the  minutes.  The 
minutes  seemed.hours. 

Rain,  hail,  sleet  and  wind  seemed  like  darkness  itself  to  belong 


A   RED   EPISTLE.  403 

to  the  night.  As  long  as  night  lasted,  so  long  continued  they. 
When  it  came  to  an  end,  all  vanished  together — the  norther  had 
exhausted  its  strength. 

A  wild  turkey,  killed  before  nightfall,  with  some  steaks  of  the 
peccary-pork,  furnished  us  with  an  ample  breakfast.  It  was 
hastily  cooked,  and  hastily  eaten  ;  and  as  the  first  streaks  of 
dawn  appeared  along  the  horizon,  we  were  in  our  saddles,  and 
advancing  upon  the  trail. 


CHAPTER    LXXX. 

A    RED    EPISTLE. 

THE  trail  led  northwest,  as  written  upon  the  maguey.  No 
doubt  she  had  heard  her  captors  forespeak  their  plans.  I  knew 
that  she  herself  understood  something  of  the  Comanche  lan 
guage.  The  accomplishment  may  appear  strange,  and  not 
strange  either  when  it  is  known  that  with  her  it  was  a  native 
tongue.  Her  mother  could  have  spoken  it  well. 

But,  even  without  this  knowledge  she  might  still  have  learnt 
the  designs  of  the  savages — for  these  southern  Comanches  are 
accomplished  linguists — many  of  them  can  speak  the  beautiful 
language  of  Andalusia.  There  was  a  time  when  a  portion  of 
the  tribe  submitted  to  the  teaching  of  the  mission  padres  ;  a 
few  among  them  might  even  boast— which  they  do  not — of 
Iberian  blood  I 

No  doubt,  Isolina  in  their  midst  had  overheard  them  discuss 
ing  their  projects. 

We  had  ridden  about  two  hours,  when  we  came  upon  the 
ground  where  the  Indians  had  made  their  night  camp. 

We  approached  it  warily  and  with  stealth,  for  we  were  now 
travelling  with  great  caution.  We  had  need.  Should  a  single 
savage,  straying  behind,  set  eyes  upon  us  we  might  as  well  be 


4:04:  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

seen  by  the  whole  band.  If  discovered  upon  the  war-trail,  our 
lives  would  not  be  worth  much.  Some  of  us  might  escape  ;  -but 
at  least  our  plan  would  be  completely  frustrated. 

1  say  plan,  for  I  had  formed  one.  During  the  long  vigil  of 
the  night  my  thoughts  had  not  been  idle,  and  a  course  of  action 
I  had  traced  out,  though  it  was  not  yet  fully  developed  in  my 
mind.  Circumstances  might  alter  it  or  aid  me  in  its  execution. 

We  approached  their  night  encampment  then,  warily  and  with 
stealth.  The  smoke  of  its  smouldering  fires  pointed  out  the 
places,  and  warned  us  from  afar.  We  found  it  quite  deserted, 
the  gaunt  wolf  and  coyote  slone  occupying  the  ground,  disput 
ing  with  each  other  possession  of  the  hide  and  bones  of  a  horse, 
the  debris  of  the  Indian  breakfast. 

Had  we  not  known  already,  the  trappers  could  have  told  by 
the  sign  of  the  camp  to  what  tribe  the  Indians  belonged. 

There  were  still  standing  the  poles  of  a  tent — only  one — doubt 
less  the  lodge  of  the  head  chief.  The  poles  were  temporary 
ones — saplings,  cut  from  the  adjacent  thicket.  They  were  placed 
in  a  circle,  and  meeting  at  the  top,  were  tied  together  with  a 
piece  of  thong,  so  that  when  covered,  the  lodge  would  have 
exhibited  the  form  of  a  perfect  cone.  This  we  knew  was  the 
fashion  of  the  Comanche  tent. 

"  Eft  bed  a  been  Kickapoo,"  said  Rube,  who  took  the  oppor 
tunity  of  displaying  his  knowledge,  "  thu'd  a  bent  thur  poles 
in'ard,  so's  to  make  a  sort  o'  a  roun  top  d'ee  see,  an'  ef  't  bed  a 
been  Wacoes  or  Witcheetees  they'd  a  left  a  hole  at  the  lop  to 
let  out  thur  smoke.  Delawurs  and  Shawnee  wud  a  hed  tents 
iest  like  whites,  but  thet  ar  ain't  thur  way  o'  makin'  a  fire.  In 
a  Shawnee  .fire  the  logs  wud  a  been  laid  in,  one  end  turned  in, 
and  the  tother  turned  out,  jest  like  the  star  on  a  Texan  flag,  or 
the  spokes  o'  a  wheel.  Likeways  Cherokee  an'  Choctaw  wud  a 
hed  reglar  tents,  but  thur  fire  wud  a  been  alser  difFrunt. 
They'd  a  sot  the  logs  parallel,  side  by  side,  an'  lit  em  only  at 
one  end,  an'  then  pushed  em  up  as  fast  as  they  bnrn'd.  That's 


A    RED    EPISTLE.  4:05 

thur  way.     Ee  see  these  hyur  logs  is  sot  diff  rint,  thur  lit  in  the 
middle,  an'  thet's  Kimanch  for  sartint  it  ur." 

Rube's  knowledge  extended  farther.  The  savages  had  been 
astart  as  early  as  ourselves.  They  had  decamped  about  day 
light,  and  were  now  exactly  two  hours  ahead  of  us  on  the  trail. 
Why  were  they  travelling  so  rapidly  ?  Not  from  fear  of  pursuit 
by  an  enemy.  The  soldiers  of  Mexico — had  they  regarded  these 
— were  too  busy  with  the  Saxon  foe,  and  vice  versa.  They  could 
hardly  be  expecting  us  to  make  an  expedition  to  rob  them  of 
their  captives.  Perhaps  they  were  driving  forward  to  be  in  time 
for  the  great  herds  of  buffalo  that,  along  with  the  cold  weather, 
might  now  be  looked  for  in  the  north  of  the  Comanche  range. 
This  was  the  explanation  of  the  trappers — most  probably  the 
true  one. 

Under  the  influence  of  singular  emotions  I  rode  over  the 
ground.  There  were  other  signs  beside  those  of  the  savage  ; 
signs  of  the  plunder  with  which  they  were  laden.  Signs  of  civili 
zation.  There  were  fragments  of  broken  cups,  and  musical 
instruments  ;  torn  leaves  of  books  ;  remnants  of  dresses,  silks 
and  velvets  ;  a  small  satin  slipper  (the  peculiar  c/iaussure  of  the 
Mexican  manola — upon  whose  foot  worn  ?)  side  by  side  with 
a  worn-out,  mud-stained  moccasin — fit  emblems  of  savage  and 
civilized  live.  There  was  no  time  for  speculating  on  such  a 
curious  confusion.  I  was  looking  for  signs  of  her — for  traces  of 
my  betrothed.  I  cast  around  me  inquiring  glances. 

Where  was  it  probable  she  had  passed  the  night  ?     Where  'f 

Involuntarily  my  eyes  rested  upon  the  naked  poles — the  tent 
of  the  chief.  How  could  it  be  otherwise  ?  Who  among  all  the 
captives  like  her  ?  grandly  beautiful,  to  satisfy  the  eye  even  of  a 
savage  chieftain — grandly,  magnificently  beautiful,  how  could  she 
escape  his  notice  ?  There  in  bis  lodge,  shrouded  under  the 
brown  skin  of  buffaloes,  under  hideous  devices — in  the  arms  of  a 
painted,  red-bedaubed  savage — his  arms,  brown  and  greasy — • 
embraced — oh  1 — 


406  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

"  Young  fellur  1  I  arn't  much  o'  a  skoller,  but  I'd  stake  a 
pack  o'  beaver  plew  agin  a  plug  o'  Jeemes'  River  that  this  hyur 
manerscrip  war  entended  for  yurself,  and  nob'dy  else.  Thur's 
writin'  upon  it,  thet's  clur,  an'  mighty  keu'rous  ink,  I  reck'n,  thet 
ur.  Oncest  on  a  time  I  kud  a  read,  write  or  print  eyethur,  as 
easy  as  fallin*  off  a  log — for  thur  wur  a  Yankee  fellur  on  Duck 
Crick  that  kep  a  pretty  consid'able  school  thur,  and  the  ole 
;oman,  that  ur  Mrs.  Rawlins,  bed  this  child  put  thro'  a  reglar 
coorse  o'  the  Testymint.  I  remembers  readiu'  'bout  thet  ur 
cussed  nigger  as  toated  the  possible-sack — Judeas,  ef  I  recollex 
right,  wur  the  durned  raskul's  name — ef  I  kud  a  laid  claws  on 
him,  I'd  a  raised  his  har  in  the  shakin'  o'  a  goat's  tail.  Wagh  ! 
thet  I  wud." 

Rube's  indignation  against  the  betrayer  having  reached  its 
climax,  brought  his  speech  to  a  termination. 

I  had  not  waited  for  its  finale.  The  object  which  he  held 
between  his  fingers  had  more  interest  for  me  than  either  the 
history  of  his  own  early  days,  or  the  story  of  the  betrayer.  It 
was  a  paper — a  note — actually  folded,  and  addressed,  "  War- 
field  !"  He  had  found  it  upon  the  grass,  close  to  where  the 
tent  had  stood,  and  held  in  the  crotch  of  a  split  stick,  the  other 
end  of  which  was  stuck  into  the  ground. 

No  wonder  the  trapper  had  remarked  upon  the  ink.  There 
was  no  mistaking  the  character  of  that  lurid  red.  Th*  writing 
was  in  blood ! 

Hastily  unfolding  the  paper,  I  read  : 

"  Henri !  I  am  still  safe,  but  in  dread  of  a  sad  fate — the  fate 
of  the  poor  white  captive,  among  these  hideous  men.  Last 
night  I  feared  it,  but  the  Virgin  shielded  me.  It  has  not  come. 
Oh  !  I  shall  not  submit.  I  shall  die  by  my  own  hand.  A 
strange  chance  has  hitherto  saved  me  from  this  horrid  outrage. 
No  1  it  was  not  chance,  but  Heaven  that  interposed.  It  is  thus  : 
Two  of  my  captors  claim  me- -one  the  son  of  the  chief — t'ie 


MOKE   WRITING    IN   KED.  '  407 

&tLer,  the  wretch  to  whom  you  granted  life  and  freedom. 
Would  to  God  it  had  been  otherwise  !  Of  the  two,  he  of  white 
blood  is  the  viler  savage  —  bad  —  brutal  —  a  very  demon.  Both 
took  part  in  capture  of  the  steed  —  therefore  both  claim  me  as 
their  'property.'  The  claim  is  not  yet  adjusted,  hence  have  I 
been  spared  ;  but,  alas  !  I  fear  my  hour  is  nigh.  A  council  is 
to  be  held  that  will  decide  to  which  of  these  monsters  I  am  to 
be  given.  Jf  to  either,  it  is  a  horrid  fate  ;  if  to  neither,  a  doom 
still  more  horrible  —  perchance  you  know  their  custom.  I 
should  be  common  property  —  the  victim  of  all.  Dios  de  mi 
ilma  !  Never  —  never  !  Death  —  welcome  death  I 

"  Fear  not,  Henri,  lord  of  my  heart  !  fear  not  that  I  shall  dis 
honor  your  love  —  no  —  sacred  in  my  breast  its  purity  shall  be 
preserved  —  even  at  the  sacrifice  of  my  life.  I  shall  bathe  it  ia 
the  blood  of  my  heart.  Ah  me  1  my  heart  is  bleeding  now  1 
They  come  to  drag  me  away.  Farewell  !  farewell  1" 


Such  were  the  contents  of  the  page  —  the  fly  leaf  of  a 
missal.  Upon  the  other  side  was  a  vignette  —  a  pictuie  of 
Dolores,  the  weeping  saint  of  Mexico  !  Had  it  been  chosen,  the 
emblem  could  scarce  have  been  more  appropriate. 

I  thrust  the  red  writing  into  my  bosom,  and  without  v  aiting 
to  exchange  a  word  with  my  companions,  pressed  forward  npon 
the  trail. 


CHAPTER  LXXXI. 

MORE     WRITING     IN    RED. 

THE  men  followed  as  before.  I  needed  no  trackers  to  show 
the  way.  The  path  was  plain  as  a  driver's  road — a  thousand 
horses  had  made  their  mark  upon  the  ground. 

We  rode  at  a  regular  pace — not  rapidly.     I  was  in  no  hurry 


408  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

to  come  up  with  the  savages.  I  desired  not  to  get  sight  of 
them  before  nightfall.  It  would  be  better  not — lest  they  might 
also  get  sight  of  us. 

The  plan  I  proposed  to  myself  for  the  rescue  of  my  be 
trothed  could  not  be  accomplished  in  the  day.  Darkness 
alone  could  avail  me  in  carrying  it  out,  and  for  nightfall  must 
I  wait. 

We  could  easily  have  overtaken  the  savages  before  night. 
They  were  but  two  short  hours  in  advance,  and  would  be 
certain,  as  is  their  custom  on  the  war-trail,  to  make  a  noon 
halt  of  several  hours'  duration.  Even  Indian  horses  require 
to  be  rested. 

We  calculated  the  rate  at  which  they  were  travelling — how 
many  miles  to  the  hour  ;  the  prairie  men  could  tell  to  a  furlong 
both  the  gait  and  the  distance.  The  tracks  of  the  poor  cap 
tives  were  still  seen  along  the  trail.  This  showed  that  the  party 
could  not  have  been  going  faster  than  a  walk. 

The  prairie-men  alleged  there  were  many  horses  without  riders 
— led  or  driven — many  mules  too — the  product  of  the  foray. 
Why  were  the  poor  captives  not  permitted  to  ride  them  ? 

Was  it  sheer  cruelty,  or  brutal  indifference,  on  the  part  of 
their  captors  ?  Did  the  inhuman  monsters  gloat  over  the  suf 
ferings  of  these  unfortunates,  and  deny  them  even  the  alleviation 
of  physical  pain  ?  The  affirmative  answer  to  all  these  questions 
was  probably  the  true  one — since  hardly  better — no  better  in 
deed — is  the  behavior  of  these  savages  towards  the  women  of 
their  own  blood  and  kind — the  squaws. 

Talk  not  to  me  of  the  noble  savage,  of  the  simplicity  and 
gentleness  of  that  condition  falsely  termed  a  state  of  nature.  If 
is  not  nature.  God  meant  not  man  to  be  a  wild  Ishrnaelite  on 
the  face  of  the  earth.  Man  was  made  for  civilization — for 
society,  and  only  under  its  influence  does  he  assume  the  form 
and  grace  of  true  nobility.  Leave  him  to  himself — to  the  play 
of  his  instincts — to  the  indulgence  of  evil  impulses,  and  mutj 


MORE    WRITING-    IN    KED.  4:09 

becomes  a  brute — a  beast  of  prey.  Even  worse,  for  wolf  and 
tiger  gently  consort  with  their  kind,  and  still  more  gently  with 
their  family.  They  feel  the  tenderness  of  a  family  tie.  Where 
is  the  savage  upon  all  the  earth  who  does  not  usurp  dominion — 
who  does  not  practise  the  meanest  tyranny  on  his  weaker 
mate  ?  Where  can  you  find  him  ?  Not  on  the  blood-stained 
Karroos  of  Africa — not  upon  the  forest  plains  of  the  Amazon — 
not  by  the  icy  shores  of  the  Arctic  Sea — certainly  not  on  the 
prairie  of  North  America. 

No  man  can  be  noble  who  would,  in  wrath,  lay  his  finger  upon 
weaker  woman  ;  talk  not  then  of  the  noble  savage — fancy  of 
|;oets — myth  of  romance  1 

The  tracks  of  riderless  horses,  the  footsteps  of  walking  women, 
tender  girls  and  children,  upon  that  tiresome  trail,  had  for  me  a 
cruel  significance — those  slender  tiny  tracks  of  pretty  feet — • 
pobres  ninos  ! 

There  was  one  that  fixed  my  attention  more  than  the  rest 
Every  now  and  tnen  my  eyes  were  upon  it.  I  fancied  I  could 
identify  it.  It  was  exactly  the  size,  I  thought.  The  perfect 
symmetry  and  configuration — the  oval  curve  of  the  heel — high 
instep — the  row  of  small  graduated  globes,  made  by  the  impres 
sion  of  the  toes — the  smooth  surface  left  by  the  imprint  of  ,the 
delicate  epidermis — all  these  points  seemed  to  characterize  the 
footprints  of  a  lady. 

Surely  it  could  not  be  hers  ?  Surely  she  would  not  be  toiling 
along  that  weary  track  ?  Cruel  as  were  the  hearts  of  her  cap 
tors — brutal  as  were  their  natures,  surely  they  would  not  inflict 
this  unnecessary  pain.  Beauty  like  hers  should  command  kind 
treatment — should  inspire  compassion  even  in  the  breast  of  a 
savage  I  Alas  !  I  deemed  it  doubtful. 

We  rode  slowly  on,  not  desirous  of  overtaking  the  foe,  we 
were  allowing  them  time  to  depart  from  their  noon  resting-place. 
We  might  as  weH  havfc  stopped  for  a  while,  but  I  could  not 
submit  to  the  repose  of  a  halt.  Motion,  however  slow,  ap- 

18 


410  THE  "WAR-TRAIL. 

peared  progress  ;  and  in  some  measure  hindered  me  from  dwell 
ing  upon  thought,  that  only  produced  useless  pain. 

Notwithstanding  the  incumbrance  of  their  spoils,  the  Indians 
must  have  been  travelling  faster  than  we.  They  had  no  fear  of 
foes  to  retard  them,  naught  to  require  either  spies  or  caution. 
They  were  now  in  their  own  country,  in  the  very  heart  of  the 
Comanche  range,  and  in  dread  of  no  enemy.  They  were  moving 
fresher,  and  without  fear.  We  on  the  contrary  had  to  keep  our 
scouts  in  the  advance.  Every  bend  of  the  road  had  to  be  re 
connoitred  by  them,  every  bush  examined,  every  swell  of  the 
ground  approached  with  extreme  care  and  watchfulness. 

These  mano3uvres  occupied  time,  and  we  moved  slowly 
enough. 

It  was  after  midday  when  we  arrived  at  the  noon  camp  of  th^ 
savages.  They  had  kindled  fires  and  cooked  flesh.  The  smoke, 
as  before,  warned  us,  and  approaching  under  cover,  we  perceived 
that  they  were  gone.  The  bones,  clean-picked,  were  easily  iden 
tified,  and  told  that  the  midday  meal  had  made  no  change  in 
the  diet  of  these  hippophagists,  dinner  and  dejeuner  had  been 
alike  drawn  from  the  same  larder. 

Again  I  searched  the  ground  ;  but  as  before,  the  eyes  of  the 
trapper  proved  better  than  mine. 

41  Hyur's  a  other  billet  dux,  young  fellur,"  said  he,  handing 
me  the  paper. 

Another  leaf  from  the  missal  I 

I  seized  it  eagerly — eagerly  I  devoured  its  contents.  This 
time  they  were  more  brief  : 

"  Once  more  I  open  my  veins.  The  council  meets  to-night.  In 
a  few  hours  it  will  be  decided  whose  property  1  am — whose  slave — 
whose Santisima  Maria  !  1  canned  write  the  word.  I  shall  at 
tempt  to  escape.  They  leave  my  hands  free,  but  my  limbs  are  tight, 
bound  with  thongs.  I  have  tried  to  undo  my  fastening,  but  cannot. 
Oh,  if  I  had  but  a  knife  !  I  know  where  one  is  kept — a  keen  blade. 


AJJ    INJUN    ON    THE   BACK    TRACK.  41] 

/  may  contrive  to  seize  it,  but  it  must  be  in  the  last  moment — It 
will  not  do  to  fail.  Henri,  I  am  firm  and  resolute.  I  do  nor. 
yield  to  despair,  one  way  or  other.  1  shall  free  myself  from  the, 

dideous  embrace  of •     They  come — the  villain  watches  me  I     I 

must  " 

The  writing  ended  abruptly.  Her  jailers  had  interrupted 
her.  The  paper  had  evidently  been  concealed  from  them  in 
haste.  It  had  been  suddenly  crumpled  up  and  flung  upon  the 
grass,  for  so  was  it  when  found.  ***** 

We  remained  for  a  while  upon  the  spot  to  rest  and  refresh 
our  horses.  The  poor  brutes  needed  both.  There  was  water 
at  the  place,  and  that  might  not  be  met  with  again. 

The  sun  was  far  down  when  we  resumed  our  march — our  last 
march  along  the  war-trail. 


CHAPTER  LXXXII. 

AN   INJUN   ON  THE   BACK  TRACK. 

WE  had  advanced  about  a  mile  farther  when  our  scouts,  who, 
as  usual,  had  gone  forward  to  reconnoitre,  having  ascended  a 
swell  of  the  prairie,  were  observed  crouching  behind  some  bushes 
that  grew  upon  its  crest.  We  all  drew  bridle  to  await  the 
result  of  their  reconnoissance.  The  peculiar  attitude  in  which 
they  had  placed  themselves,  the  apparent  earnestness  with 
which  they  glanced  over  the  bushes,  led  us  to  believe  that  some 
object  was  before  their  eyes  of  more  than  common  interest. 

So  it  proved.  We  had  scarcely  halted,  when  they  were  seen 
to  retire  suddenly  from  the  bushes,  arid  rising  erect,  run  at  full 
speed  back  down  the  hill — at  the  same  time  making  signals  to 
as  to  conceal  both  ourselves  and  our  horses. 

Fortunately,  there  was  timber  near,  and  in  a  few  seconds,  WH 


f!2  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

had  all  ridden  into  it,  taking  the  horses  of  the  trappers  along 
with  us. 

The  declivity  of  the  hill  enabled  the  scouts  to  run  with  swift 
ness  ;  and  they  were  among  the  trees  almost  as  soon  as  we. 

"  What  is  it  ?"  inquired  several  in  a  breath. 

"  Injun  on  the  back  track,"  replied  the  panting  trappers. 

"  Indians  ! — how  many  of  them  ?7'  naturally  asked  one  of  the 
rangers. 

"  Who  sayed  Injuns  ?  I  sayed  a  Injun,"  sharply  retorted 
Rube.  "Dam  yur  palaver!  thur's  no  time  fur  yur  waggun. 
Git  yur  rope  ready,  Bill — 'ee  durned  greenhorns,  keep  down 
yur  guns — shootin'  wont  do  hyur — yu'd  hev  the  hul  gang  back 
in  the  flappin'  o'  a  beaver's  tail.  Let  Bill  rope  the  niggur  an' 
the  young  fellur  hyur — he  knows  how — an7  ef  both  shed  miss 
7im,  I  aint  a  gwine.  'Ee  hear  me,  fellurs  ? — don't  ne'er  a  one  o' 
ye  fire — ef  a  gun  ur  wanted,  Targuts  '11  be  surficient,  I  guess — 
but  for  yur  lives  don't  a  fire  them  ur  blunderbusses  o'  yourn  till 
I  miss — they'd  be  heerd  ten  mile  off.  Ready  ur  yur  rope,  Billee? 
you,  young  fellur  ?  All  right,  mind  your  eyes  both,  and  snare 
the  durned  niggur  like  a  swamp  rabbit.  Yanuer  he  comes,  by 
the  jumpin'  Geehosophat !" 

The  pithy  chapter  of  instructions  above  detailed,  was  deliv 
ered  in  far  less  time  than  it  may  take  to  read  it.  The  speaker 
never  paused  till  he  had  uttered  the  final  emphatic  shibboleth, 
which  was  one  of  his  favorite  phrases  of  embellishment. 

At  the  same  instant,  I  saw  just  appearing  above  the  crest 
of  the  ridge  the  head  and  shoulders  of  a  savage.  In  a  few 
seconds  more,  the  body  was  in  sight,  and  then  thighs  and  legs, 
with  a  large  piebald  mustang  between  them.  I  need  scarcely 
add,  that  the  horse  was  going  at  a  gallop.  It  is  a  rare  sight 
when  a  horse-Indian  rides  any  other  gait. 

There  was  only  one.  The  scouts  were  sure  of  this.  Beyond 
the  swell  stretched  an  open  prairie,  and  if  the  Indian  had  had  com 
panions  or  followers,  they  would  have  been  seen  He  was  alone 


AN   INJUN   ON    THE   BACK   TRACK.  413 

What  had  brought  him  back  upon  the  trail  ?  Was  he  upon 
the  scout  ?  No — he  was  riding  without  thought,  and  without 
precaution.  A  scout  would  have  acted  otherwise.  He  might 
have  been  a  messenger,  but  whither  bound  ?  Surely  the  Indiana 
had  left  no  party  in  our  rear  1 

Quick  these  inquiries  passed  among  us,  from  mouth  to  mouth, 
and  quick  conjectures  were  offered  in  answer.  The  voyageur 
gave  the  most  probable  solution. 

"  Pe  gar  !  he  go  back  for  ze  sheel." 

"  Shield  !  what  shield  ?" 

"  Ah  !  you  no  see  'im.  I  see  'im  wis  me  eyes — he  vas  cachd 
dans  les  herbes — von  large  sheel— -bouclier  tres  gros — fabrique 
from  ze  peau  of  de  buffle,  ze  parfleche,  et  garni  avec  les  scalps, 
— frais  et  sanglants — scalps  Mexicains.  Mon  dieu  1" 

The  explanation  was  understood.  Le  Blanc  had  observed  a 
shield  among  the  bushes  where  we  had  halted,  like  enough  left 
behind  by  some  of  the  braves.  It  was  garnished  with  scalps — 
fresh  Mexican  scalps — like  enough  the  Indian  had  forgotten 
both  his  armor  and  his  trophies.  He  was  on  his  way  to  recover 
them.  Like  enough. 

There  was  no  time  either  for  farther  talk  or  conjecture.  The 
red  horseman  had  reached  the  bottom  of  the  hill,  in  ten  seconds 
more  he  would  be  lazoed  or  shot. 

Garey  and  I  placed  ourselves  on  opposite  sides  of  fe  path — 
both  with  our  lazoes  coiled  and  ready.  The  trapper  was  an 
adept  in  the  use  of  this  singular  weapon,  and  I  too  understood 
something  of  its  manege.  The  trees  were  somewhat  in  our  way, 
and  would  have  prevented  the  proper  winding  of  it,  but  it  was 
our  intention  to  spur  clear  of  the  timber,  the  moment  the  Indian 
came  within  range,  and  '*  rope  "  him  on  the  run. 

Rube  crouched  behind  Garey,  rifle  in  hand,  and  the  rangers 
were  also  ready  in  case  both  the  lazoes  and  Rube's  rifle  should 
miss. 

It  would  not  do  to  let  the  Indian  either  go  on  or  go  back 


THE   WAK-TKAIL. 

In  either  case  he  would  report  us.  Should  he  pass  the  spot 
where  we  were,  he  would  observe  our  tracks  in  a  minute's  time, 
even  amidst  the  thousands  of  others,  aud  would  be  certain  to 
return  by  another  route.  Should  he  escape  from  us  and  gallop 
back,  still  worse.  He  must  not  be  permitted  either  to  go  on 
or  go  back.  He  must  be  captured  or  killed  ! 

For  my  part,  I  desired  that  the  former  should  be  his  destiny. 
I  had  no  feeling  of  revenge  to  gratify  by  taking  the  life  of  this 
red  man,  and  had  his  capture  not  been  absolutely  necessary  to 
our  own  safety,  I  should  willingly  have  let  him  come  and  go  as 
he  listed. 

Some  of  my  comrades  were  actuated  by  different  motives  ; 
killing  a  Comanche  Indian  was,  in  their  creed,  no  greater  crime 
than  killing  a  wolf,  a  panther,  or  a  grizzly  bear  ;  aud  it  was  not 
from  any  motives  of  mercy  that  the  trapper  had  cautioned 
others  to  hold  their  fire.  Prudence  alone  directed  the  advice. 
The  reports  of  the  guns  might  be  heard. 

Through  the  leaves  I  looked  upon  the  savage  as  he  ad 
vanced.  A  fine  looking  fellow  he  was,  and  no  doubt  one  of  the 
first  warriors  of  his  tribe.  What  his  face  was  I  could  not  see, 
for  the  war  paint  disfigured  it  with  hideous  devices  ;  but  his 
body  was  large,  his  chest  broad  and  full,  his  limbs  symmetrical, 
and  well  turned  to  the  very  toes.  He  sat  his  horse  like  a  Cen 
taur. 

I  had  no  opportunity  for  prolonged  observation.  Without 
hesitating,  the  Indian  galloped  up. 

I  sprung  my  horse  clear  of  the  timber.  I  wound  the  lazo 
round  my  head,  and  hurled  it  towards  the  savage.  I  saw  the 
noose  settling  over  his  shoulders,  even  down  to  his*  hips. 

I  spurred  in  the  opposite  direction.  I  felt  the  quick  jerk, 
and  the  taut  rope  told  me  I  had  secured  the  victim. 

I  turned  in  my  saddle  and  glanced  back.  I  saw  the  rope  of 
Garey  around  the  neck  of  the  Indian's  mustang,  tightened  and 
holding  him  fast.  Horse  and  horseman — both  were  ours  ! 


CAPTURING   A   COMANCHE.  415 


CHAPTER  LXXXIII. 

CAPTURING     A     C  0  M  A  N  C  H  E  . 

THE  savage  did  not  yield  himself  up  without  resistance.  Re 
sistance  with  an  Indian  is  instinctive,  as  with  a  wild  animal 
He  flung  himself  from  his  horse,  and  drawing  his  knife,  with  a 
single  cut  severed  the  thong  that  bound  him. 

In  another  instant  he  would  have  been  off  among  the  bushes, 
bat  before  he  could  move  from  the  spot,  half  a  dozen  strong 
arms  were  around  him,  and  in  spite  of  his  struggles,  and  the 
dangerous  thrusts  of  his  long  Spanish  knife,  he  was  "  choked  " 
down  and  held  fast. 

My  followers  were  for  making  short  work  with  him.  More 
than  one  had  bared  their  blades  to  finish  him  upon  the  spot — 
and  would  have  done  so  had  I  not  interfered.  I  was  averse  to 
spilling  his  blood,  and  at  my  command,  or  entreaty,  his  life  was 


To  prevent  him  from  giving  us  farther  trouble,  however,  we 
tied  him  to  a  tree,  in  such  a  manner  that  he  couJd  not  possibly 
free  himself. 

The  mode  of  securing  him  was  suggested  by  Stanfield,  the 
backwoodsman.  It  was  simple  and  safe.  A  tree  was  chosen 
whose  trunk  was  large  enough  to  fill  the  embrace  of  the  savage, 
rio  that  the  ends  of  his  fingers  scarce  met  when  his  arms  were 
drawn  to  their  full  stretch  around  it ;  upon  his  wrists  thongs  of 
raw  hide  were  firmly  knotted,  and  then  tied  together.  His 
ankles  were  also  bound  by  similar  cords,  the  ends  of  which  were 
staked,  so  as  to  hinder  him  from  worming  around  the  tree,  and 
perchance  wearing  off  his  fastenings,  or  chafing  them  so  that 
they  might  break. 


•116  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

1 

The  ligature  was  perfect.  The  most  expert  jail-breaker  could 
not  have  frWd  himself  from  such  a  biuding. 

Tt  was  our  intention  to  leave  him  thus,  and  perhaps  set  him 
free  upon  our  return,  if  we  should  return  by  that  way — a  doubt 
ful  hypothesis. 

I  thought  not  at  the  time  of  the  cruelty  we  were  committing. 
We  had  spared  the  Indian's  life — a  mercy  at  the  moment,  and 
1  was  too  much  concerned  about  the  future  of  others  to  waste 
reflection  on  his.  We  had  taken  the  precaution  to  place  him  at 
some  distance  from  the  trail.  Others  of  his  party  might  come 
after  and  discover  him  soon  enough  to  interfere  with  our  plans. 
His  prison  had  been  chosen  far  off  in  the  depth  of  the  woods. 
Even  his  shouts  could  not  have  been  heard  by  any  one  passing 
along  the  trail. 

He  was  not  to  be  left  entirely  alone.  A  horse  was  to  be  his 
companion — not  his  own,  for  one  of  the  rangers  had  fancied  an 
exchange.  Stanfield,  not  well  mounted,  proposed  a  "  swap,"  as 
he  jocosely  termed  it,  to  which  the  savage  had  no  alternative 
but  consent;  arid  the  Kentuckian,  having  "hitched"  his  worn 
out  nag  to  a  tree,  led  off  the  skew-bald  mustang  in  triumph, 
declaring  that  he  was  now  "  squar  wi'  the  Indyens."  Stanfield 
would  have  liked  it  better  had  the  "  swap  "  been  made  with  the 
renegade  who  had  robbed  him. 

We  were  about  to  leave  the  place  and  move  on,  when  a  bright 
idea  suddenly  came  into  my  head.  It  occurred  to  me  that  I, 
too,  might  effect  a  profitable  exchange  with  our  new-made  cap 
tive — a  swap,  not  of  horses,  but  of  men — in  short,  an  exchange 
of  persons — of  identities  ! 

In  truth,  a  bright  idea  it  was,  and  one  that  promised  well. 

I  have  said  that  I  had  already  conceived  a  plan  for  the  res 
cue  of  my  betrothed.  I  had  done  so  during  the  night,  and  aU 
along  the  route  in  my  mind  I«had  been  maturing  it. 

The  incident  that  had  just  transpired  had  given  rise  to  a  host 
of  new  ideas,  one  above  all  that  promised  to  aid  me  in  facilitat 


CAPTUKING   A   COMAKCHE.  4:17 

ing  the  execution  of  my  design.  The  capture  of  the  savage, 
which  had  at  first  given  me  uneasiness,  I  now  regarded  in  a  very 
different  light — as  a  fortunate  circumstance.  I  could  not  help 
thinking  that  I  recognized  in  it  the  finger  of  Providence,  and  the 
thought  inspired  me  with  hope.  I  felt  that  I  was  not  forsaken. 

The  plan  I  had  proposed  to  myself  was  simple  enough.  It 
would  require  more  of  courage  than  stratagem;  but  to  the  for 
mer  I  was  sufficiently  nerved  by  the  desperate  circumstances  in 
which  we  bad  become  involved.  I  proposed  to  enter  the  Indian 
camp  in  the  night — of  course  by  stealth  and  under  cover  of  dark 
ness — to  find  the  captive,  set  her  limbs  free,  and  then  trust  to 
chance  for  the  after  escape  of  both  of  us. 

If  once  inside  the  encampment,  and  within  reach  of  her,  a 
sudden  coup  might  accomplish  all  this.  Success  was  not  beyond 
possibility,  nor  probability  neither — and  the  circumstances  ad 
mitted  of  no  plan  that  promised  so  fairly. 

To  have  attempted  fight  with  my  few  followers  against  such 
a  host — to  have  attacked  the  Indian  camp,  even  under  the  ad 
vantage  of  an  alarm — would  have  been  sheer  madness.  It  must 
have  resulted  not  only  in  my  own  immediate  defeat,  but  would 
have  destroyed  our  last  chance  of  rescuing  the  captive.  The 
savages  once  alarmed  and  warned,  could  never  be  approached 
again.  Isolina  would  be  lost  for  ever. 

My  followers  agreed  with  me  upon  the  imprudence  of  an 
attack.  Folly  they  termed  it;  not  from  any  motives  of  fear  : 
they  were  willing  to  risk  all,  and  had  I  so  ordered,  would  have 
charged  with  me,  rifle  in  hand,  into  the  very  midst  of  the  ene 
my's  lines.  I  knew  they  would,  every  man  of  them.  Even  the 
voyageur,  the  least  brave  of  my  party,  would  not  have  flinched, 
for  in  the  midst  of  brave  men,  cowards  cease  to  be. 

But  such  a  course  would  indeed  have  been  folly — madness 
we  thought  not  of  adopting  it;  all  approved  of  the  plan  I  had 
formed,  and  what  I  had  already  set  before  them  as  we  tarried 
by  the  noon  halting-place.  • 

18* 


418  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

Several  had  volunteered  to  be  my  companions—  to  venture 
along  with  me  into  the  camp  of  the  savages,  to  share  with  me 
the  extreme  of  the  danger;  but  for  several  reasons  I  was  deter 
mined  to  go  alone.  Should  even  one  of  them  be  along  with  me, 
I  saw  it  would  double  the  risk  of  detection.  Stratagem,  not 
strength,  was  needed;  and  speed  in  the  last  moments  would  be 
worth  both. 

Of  course  I  did  not  expect  to  get  the  captive  clear  without 
being  observed  and  pursued.  That  would  have  bee*  preposter 
ous.  She  would  be  too  well  watched  by  savages — not  only  by 
her  jailers,  but  by  the  jealous  eyes  of  those  rival  claimants  of 
her  body. 

No,  on  the  contrary  I  anticipated  pursuit — close  and  eager; 
it  might  be  strife;  but  I  trusted  to  my  own  swiftness  of  foot, 
and  to  hers — for  well  knew  I  the  bold  heart  and  free  limb — it 
was  no  helpless  burden  I  should  have  to  bring  away. 

I  trusted  to  my  being  able  to  baffle  their  pursuit — to  keep 
them  back  while  she  ran  forward.  For  that  purpose  I  should 
have  with  me  my  knife  and  revolvers.  I  trusted  to  these,  and 
much  to  chance,  or  perhaps  I  should  rather  say,  to  God.  My 
cause  was  good — my  heart  firm  and  hopeful. 

Other  precautions  I  intended  to  take.  Horses  ready,  as  near 
as  they  might  be  brought — men  also  ready  seated  in  their  sad 
dles,  rifle  in  hand,  ready  for  fight  or  flight. 

Such  was  the  enterprise  upon  which  I  was  resolved.  Success 
or  death  the  issue.  If  not  successful,  I  cared  not  to  survive  it. 


CHAPTER     L  XXX  IV. 

"PAINTING  INJUN." 

WITHAL,  I  was  not  reckless.  If  not  sanguine,  I  was  far  from 
despondent ;  and  as  I  continued  to  dwell  upon  it,  the  prospect 
seemed  to  brighten,  and  success  became  less  problematical. 

One  of  the  chief  difficulties  I  would  have  to  encounter,  would 
be  getting  into  the  camp.  Once  inside  the  lines — that  is,  among 
ihe  camp-fires  and  tents,  if  there  should  be  any — I  would  be 
comparatively  safe.  This  I  knew  from  experience;  for  it  would 
not  be  my  first  visit  to  an  encampment  of  prairie  Indians.  Even 
in  the  midst,  mingling  with  the  savages  themselves,  and  under 
the  light  of  their  glowing  fires,  I  should  be  less  exposed  to  the 
danger  of  detection  than  while  attempting  to  cross  their  lines. 
First,  there  might  be  out-lying  pickets;  then,  within  these,  the 
horse-guards;  and  within  these  again,  the  horses  themselves  ! 

You  may  smile,  when  I  assert  that  the  last  was  to  me  a  source 
of  apprehension  as  great  as  either  of  the  others.  An  Indian 
horse  is  a  sentinel  not  to  be  despised.  He  is  as  much  the 
enemy  of  the  white  man  as  his  master ;  and,  partly  from  fear 
and  partly  from  actual  antipathy,  he  will  not  permit  the  former 
to  approach  him.  The  human  watcher  may  be  negligent — may 
sleep  upon  his  post — the  mustang  never.  The  smell  of  a  white 
man,  or  the  sight  of  a  skulking  form,  will  cause  him  to  snort  and 
neigh — so  that  a  whole  camp  will  either  be  stampeded  or  put 
upon  the  alert  in  a  few  minutes.  Many  a  well-planned  attack 
has  been  defeated  by  the  warning  snort  of  the  sentinel-horse. 

It  is  not  that  the  prairie-horse  feels  any  peculiar  attachment 
tor  the  Indian.  Strange  if  he  did — since  tyrant  more  cruel  to 


,420  THE   WAR-TKAlfc. 

the  equine  race  does  not  exist — no  driver  more  severe,  no  rider 
more  hard,  than  a  horse  Indian.  It  is  simply  the  faithfulness 
which  the  noble  animal  exhibits  for  his  companiDn  and  master, 
with  the  instinct  which  tells  him  when  tliat  master  is  menaced 
by  danger.  He  will  do  the  same  service  for  a  white  as  for  a  red 
man ;  and  often  does  the  weary  trapper  take  his  lone  rest,  with 
full  confidence  that  the  vigil  will  be  faithfully  kept  by  his  horse. 

Had  there  been  dogs  in  the  Indian  camp,  my  apprehensions 
would  have  been  still  more  acute;  the  danger  would  have  been 
more  than  doubled.  Even  within  the  lines  these  cunning  brutes 
would  have  known  me  as  an  enemy.  The  disguise  of  garments 
would  not  avail.  By  the  scent,  an  Indian  dog  can  at  once  tell 
the  white  from  the  red  man,  and  they  appear  to  hold  a  real 
antipathy  against  the  race  of  the  Saxon.  Even  in  time  of 
truce,  a  white  man  entering  an  Indian  camp  can  scarce  be  pro 
tected  from  the  wolfish  pack. 

I  knew  there  were  no  dogs — we  saw  tracks  of  none.  The 
Indians  had  been  on  the  war-trail,  and  when  they  proceed  on 
these  grand  expeditions,  their  dogs,  like  their  women,  are  left 
"  at  home."  I  had  reason  to  be  thankful  that  such  was  their 
custom. 

Of  course,  it  was  my  intention  to  go  disguised.  It  would 
have  been  madness  to  have  gone  otherwise.  In  the  darkest 
night  iny  uniform  would  have  betrayed  me;  necessarily,  in  my 
search  for  the  captive  I  should  be  led  within  the  light  of  the 
fires. 

It  was  my  design,  therefore,  to  counterfeit  the  Indian  costume, 
and  how  to  do  this  had  been  for  some  time  the  subject  of  my 
reflections.  I  had  been  congratulating  myself  on  the  possession 
of  the  buffalo-robe.  That  would  go  far  towards  the  disguise j 
but  other  articles  were  wanting  to  complete  my  costume.  The 
leggings  and  moccassins;  the  plumei  head-dress  and  neck  orna 
ments;  the  long,  straggling  locks;  the  bronze  complexion  of 
arms  and  breast;  the  piebald  face  of  chalk,  -harcoal,  and  vcr- 


milion — where  were  ail  these  to  be  obtained  ?  There  was  no 
costumerie  in  the  desert. 

In  the  moment  of  excitement  that  succeeded  the  capture  of 
the  savage,  I  had  been  thinking  of  other  things.  It  was  only 
when  we  were  about  to  part  from  him  that  the  idea  jumped  into 
my  mind — that  bright  idea  ! — that  he  could  furnish  me — the 
very  man. 

I  turned  back  to  reconnoitre  his  person.  Dismounting,  I 
scanned  him  from  head  to  foot.  With  delight  my  eyes  rested 
upon  his  buckskin  leggings — his  bead-embroidered  moccasins — • 
his  pendent  collar  of  javali  tusks — his  eagle  plumes,  stained  red — 
and  the  ample  robe  of  jaguar-skins  that  draped  his  back — all 
pleased  me  much. 

But  that  we  were  bent  on  an  errand  of  peril,  the  last  would 
not  have  been  left  there.  My  followers  had  eyed  it  with  avidity, 
and  more  than  one  of  them  had  been  desirous  of  removing  it  j 
but  proximate  peril  had  damped  the  ardor  for  spoil,  and  the 
splendid  robe  had  been  permitted  to  remain,  where  so  gracefully 
it  hung,  upon  the  shoulders  of  the  savage.  It  soon  replaced 
the  buffalo-robe  upon  mine.  My  boots  were  cast  aside,  and 
my  legs  encased  in  the  scalp-fringed  leggings  ;  my  hips  were 
swathed  in  the  leathern  "  breech-clout,"  and  my  feet  thrust 
into  the  foot-gear  of  the  Comanche,  which,  by  good  fortune, 
fitted  to  a  hair. 

There  was  yet  much  required  to  make  me  an  Indian.  Coman- 
ches  upon  the  war-trail  go  naked  from  the  waist  upward.  The 
tunic  shirt  is  only  worn  upon  the  hunt,  or  on  ordinary  occasions. 
How  was  I  to  counterfeit  the  copper  skin  ?  the  bronzed,  arms 
and  shoulders — the  mottled  breast — the  face  of  red,  and  white, 
and  black  ?  Paint  only  could  aid  me,  and  where  was  paint  to 
be  procured  ?  The  black  we  could  imitate  with  gunpowder, 
but 

"  Wagh  !"  ejaculated  Rube,  who  was  seen  holding  in  his 
hands  a  wolf-skin,  prettily  trimmed  and  garnished  with 


THE    WAK  TRAIL. 

and  beads.  It  was  the  medicine-bag  of  the  Indian.  "  Wagh  1 
I  thort  we'd  find  the  meteerils  in  the  niggur's  possible-sack  • 
hyur  they  be." 

Rube  had  dived  his  hand  to  the  bottom  of  the  embroidered 
bag  ;  and,  while  speaking,  drew  it  triumphantly  forth.  Several 
little  leathern  packets  appeared  between  his  fingers,  which,  from 
their  stained  outsides,  evidently  contained  pigments  of  various 
colors,  while  a  small,  shining  object  in  their  midst  proved,  on 
closer  inspection,  to  be  a  looking-glass  I 

Neither  the  trapper  nor  myself  were  astonished  at  finding 
these  odd  "notions"  in  such  a  place.  On  the  contrary,  it  was 
natural  we  should  have  looked  for  them.  Seldom  in  peace,  but 
never  in  time  of  war,  does  the  Indian  ride  abroad  without  his 
rouge  and  his  mirror  ! 

The  colors  were  of  the  right  sort,  and  corresponded  exactly 
with  those  that  glistened  upon  the  skin  of  the  captive  warrior. 

Under  the  keen  edge  of  a  bowie,  my  moustache  came  off  in  a 
twinkling.  A  little  grease  was  procured  ;  the  paints  were 
mixed  ;  and  placing  myself  side  by  side  with  the  Indian,  I  stood 
for  his  portrait.  Rube  was  the  painter  ;  a  piece  of  soft  buck 
skin  his  brush  ;  the  broad  palm  of  Garey  his  palette. 

The  operation  did  not  last  a  great  while.  In  twenty  minutes 
it  was  all  over,  and  the  Indian  brave  and  I  appeared  the  exact 
counterpart  of  each  other.  Streak  by  streak,  and  spot  by  spot, 
had  the  old  trapper  imitated  those  hideous  hieroglyphics,  even  to 
the  red  hand  upon  the  breast,  and  the  cross  upon  the  brow.  In 
horrid  aspect,  the  copy  quite  equalled  the  original. 

One  thing  was  still  lacking— an  important  element  in  the 
metamorphosis  of  disguise.  I  wanted  the  long,  snaky,  black 
trusses  that  adorned  the  head  of  the  Comanche. 

The  want  was  soon  supplied.  Again  the  bowie-blade  was 
called  upon  to  serve  as  scissors;  and  with  Garey  to  perform  the 
tonsorial  feat,  the  chevelure  of  the  Indian  was  shorn  of  its  flow 
ing  glories. 


**  PAINTING    INJUN." 

The  savage  winced  as  the  keen  blade  glistened  around  his 
brow.  He  had  no  other  thought  than  that  he  was  about  to  be 
scalped  alive  ! 

"  'Taint  the  way  I'd  raise  his  bar,  the  dod  rotted  niggur  ! 
Fotch  the  hide  along  wi'  it,  Bill  !  it'll  save  bother  j  ee'll  hev  to 
make  a  wig  ef  'ee  don't.  Skin  'im,  durn  'im  I" 

Of  course,  Garey  did  not  give  heed  to  the  cruel  counsel,  which 
he  knew  was  not  meant  for  earnest. 

A  rude  "scratch "  was  soon  constructed,  and,  being  placed 
upon  my  head,  was  attached  to  my  own  waving  locks.  Fortu 
nately,  these  were  of  a  dark  color,  and  the  hue  corresponded. 

I  fancied  I  saw  the  Indian  smile,  wher?  ^e  perceived  the  use 
we  were  making  of  his  splendid  tresses.  It  was  a  grim  smile, 
however;  and  from  the  first  moment  to  the  last,  neither  word 
nor  ejaculation  escaped  from  his  lips. 

Even  I  was  forced  to  smile.  I  could  not  restrain  myself.  The 
odd  travesty  in  which  we  were  engaged,  the  strange  commingling 
of  the  comic  and  serious  in  the  act,  and,  above  all,  the  ludicrous 
look  of  the  captive  Indian  after  they  had  close  cropped  him,  was 
enough  to  make  a  stone  smile.  My  comrades  could  not  restrain 
themselves,  but  laughed  outright. 

The  plume-bonnet  was  now  placed  on  my  head.  It  was  fortu 
nate  the  brave  had  one — for  this  magnificent  headdress  is  rarely 
worn  on  a  war-expedition — fortunate,  for  it  aided  materially  in 
concealing  the  counterfeit.  The  false  hair  could  hardly  have 
been  detected,  even  under  the  light  of  day. 

There  was  no  more  to  be  done.  The  painter,  hair-dresser, 
and  costumier  had  performed  their  several  offices.  I  was  ready 
for  the 


424  THE   WAK-TRAIL. 


CHAPTER    LXXXV. 

THE     LAST     HOURS     ON     THE     1  A  A.  I  L . 

Monk  cautiously  than  ever,  we  now  crept  a/.ong  the  trail — ad 
vancing  only  after  the  ground  had  been  thoroughly  "  quartered J' 
by  the  scouts.  Time  was  of  the  least  consequence.  The  fresh 
sign  of  the  Indians  told  us  they  were  but  a  short  way  ahead  o( 
us.  We  could  have  ridden  within  sight  of  them  at  any  moment. 

We  did  not  wish  to  set  eyes  upon  them  before  sunset.  It 
could  be  no  advantage  to  overtake  them  on  the  march — but  the 
contrary.  Some  lagging  Indian  might  be  found  in  the  rear  of 
the  band  ;  we  might  come  in  contact  with  him,  and  thus  defeat 
all  our  designs. 

We  hung  back,  therefore,  allowing  time  for  the  savages  ti 
pitch  their  camp,  and  for  the  stragglers  to  get  into  it. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  had  no  desire  to  arrive  late.  The  couu 
cil  was  to  be  held  that  night — so  she  had  learned — and  after 
the  council  must  come  the  crisis.  I  must  be  in  time  for  both. 

At  what  hour  would  the  council  take  place  ?  It  might  be 
just  after  they  had  halted. 

The  son  of  a  chief,  and  a  chief  himself — for  the  white  renegade 
was  a  leader  of  red  men — a  question  between  two  such  men 
would  not  remain  long  undecided.  And  a  question  of  so  much 
importance — involving  such  consequences — property  in  body  and 
soul — possession  of  the  most  beautiful  woman  in  the  world  ! 

Oh  !  I  wondered,  could  these  hideous  ochre-stained,  grease- 
bedaubed  brutes,  appreciate  that  peerless  beauty  ?  Impossible, 
I  thought.  The  delicate  lines  of  her  loveliness  would  be  lost 
upon  their  gross  eyes  and  coarse  sensual  hearts.  That  pear! 


THE  LAST  HOURS  ON  THE  TRAIL.          425 

beyond  price — paste  would  have  satisfied  them  as  well — they 
could  not  distinguish  the  diamond  from  common  glass. 

And  yet  the  Comanche  is  not  without  Love-craft.  Coarse  as 
might  be  the  passion,  they  must  have  loved  her — both  must 
have  loved  her — red  savage  and  white  savage. 

For  this  very  reason  the  "  trial "  would  not  be  delayed.  The 
question  would  be  speedily  decided,  so  that  the  quarrel  of  the 
chiefs  might  be  brought  to  an  end.  For  this  very  reason  the 
crisis  might  be  hastened,  the  council  take  place  at  an  early 
hour  ;  for  tl^is  very  reason  I,  too,  must  needs  be  upon  the  spot 
at  an  early  hour. 

It  was  my  aim  to  arrive  within  sight  of  the  Indian  encamp 
ment  just  before  night — in  the  twilight,  if  possible — that  we 
might  be  able  to  make  recognizance  of  the  ground  before  dark 
ness  would  cover  it  from  our  view.  We  were  desirous  of  ac 
quainting  ourselves  with  the  lay  of  the  surrounding  country  as 
well,  so  that  in  the  event  of  our  escape,  we  should  know  which 
was  the  best  direction  to  take. 

We  timed  our  advance  by  the  sign  upon  the  trail.  The  keen 
scouts  could  tell  almost  to  a  minute  when  the  latest  tracks  were 
made,  and  by  this  we  were  guided.  Both  glided  silently  along 
their  eyes  constantly  and  earnestly  turned  upon  the  ground. 

Mine  were  more  anxiously  bent  upon  the  sky.  From  that 
quarter  I  most  feared  an  obstacle  to  the  execution  of  my  pur 
pose. 

What  a  change  had  come  over  my  desires.  How  different  are 
they  from  those  of  the  preceding  night.  The  very  same  aspect 
of  the  heavens  that  had  hitherto  chagrined  and  baffled  me,  would 
now  have  been  welcome.  In  my  heart  I  had  lately  execrated 
the  clouds — in  that  same  heart  I  was  now  praying  for  cloud, 
and  storm,  and  darkness. 

Now  could  I  have  blessed  the  clouds,  there  were  none  to  blesa 
— not  a  speck  appeared  over  the  whole  face  of  the  firmament — 
the  eye  beheld  only  the  illimitable  ether. 


THE    WAE-TB.AIL. 

In  another  hour  that  boundless  blue  would  be  studded  over 
with  millions  of  bright  stars,  and  silvered  by  the  light  of  a  re 
splendent  moon — the  night  would  be  as  day. 

I  was  dismayed  at  the  prospect.  I  prayed  for  cloud,  and 
storm,  and  darkness.  Human  heart  I  unreasoning  and  unrea 
sonable  when  blinded  by  its  own  petty  passion.  My  petition 
was  opposed  to  the  unalterable  laws  of  Nature — it  could  not  bo 
hea^d. 

I  can  scarce  describe  how  the  aspect  of  that  bright  sky 
troubled  and  pained  me.  The  night  bird,  who  joys  only  in 
deepest  darkness,  could  not  have  liked  it  less. 

Should  there  be  moonlight,  the  enterprise  would  be  made 
more  perilous — doubly  more.  Doubly  more  should  thwe  be 
moonlight — why  need  I  form  an  hypothesis  ?  Moonlight  there 
would  be  to  a  certainty.  It  was  the  middle  term  of  the  lunar 
mouth,  and  the  moon  would  be  up  almost  as  the  sun  went  down 
— full,  round,  and  almost  as  bright  as  he,  with  no  cloud  to  cover 
her  face — to  shroud  the  earth  from  her  white  diaphanous  light. 
Certainly  there  would  be  moonlight ! 

Well  thought  of  us  was  that  disguise  !  Well  spent  was  our 
labor  in  making  it  so  perfect !  Under  the  moonlight,  to  it  only 
could  I  trust.  By  it  only  might  I  expect  to  preserve  my  in 
cognito. 

But  the  eye  of  the  Indian  savage  is  sharp,  and  his  perception 
keen — almost  as  instinct  itself.  I  could  not  rely  much  upon  my 
borrowed  plumes,  should  speech  be  required  from  me.  Just  on 
account  of  the  cunning  imitation,  the  perfectness  of  the  pattern, 
Borne  of  the  friends  of  the  original  model  might  have  business 
with  me — might  approach  and  address  me.  I  knew  not  a  word 
of  Comanche — how  should  I  escape  from  the  colloquy  ? 

Such  thoughts  were  troubling  me  as  we  rode  along  the  trail. 

Night  was  near — the  sun's  lorn  rival  rested  on  the  far  ho 
rizon  of  the  west — the  hour  was  an  anxious  one  to  me. 

The  scouts  had  been  for  some  tima  in  the  advance,  without 


THE   COMANCHE   CAMP.  427 

returning  to  report  ;  and  we  had  halted  in  a  copse  to  wait  for 
them.  A  high  hill  was  before  us,  wooded  only  at  the  summit. 
Over  this  hill  the  war -trail  led.  We  had  observed  the  scouts 
to  go  into  the  timber,  and  we  kept  our  eyes  upon  the  spot, 
waiting  for  their  return. 

Presently,  one  of  them  appeared  just  outside  the  edge  of  the 
woods.  Garey  we  saw  it  was.  He  made  signs  to  us  to  come 
on. 

We  rode  up  to  the  hill,  and  entered  among  the  trees.  Here 
we  diverged  from  the  trail.  The  scout  guided  us  through  the 
trunks,  over  the  high  summit.  On  the  other  side  the  wood  ex 
tended  only  a  little  below,  but  we  did  not  ride  beyond  it.  We 
halted  before  coming  to  its  edge,  and,  dismounting,  tied  our 
horses  to  the  trees. 

We  crept  forward  on  our  hands  and  knees,  till  we  had  reached 
the  outmost  verge  of  the  timber.  Through  the  leaves  we  peered, 
looking  down  into  the  plain  beyond.  We  saw  smokes  and 
fires,  and  a  skin  lodge  in  their  midst.  We  saw  dark  forms 
around — men  moving  over  the  ground,  and  horses  with  their 
heads  to  the  grass.  We  were  looking  upon  the  Comanche 
camp. 


CHAPTER   LXXXVI. 

THE    COMANCHE    CAMP. 

WE  had  reached  our  ground  just  at  the  moment  I'  had 
desired.  It  was  twilight — dark  enough  to  render  ourselves 
inconspicuous  under  the  additional  shadow  of  the  trees,  yet 
sufficiently  clear  to  allow  a  full  reconnoissance  oi  the  enemy's 
position.  Our  point  of  view  was  a  good  one — under  a  single 
coup  d'wil  commanding  the  encampment,  and  a  vast  extent  of 
countrv  around  it.  The  hill  we  had  climbed — a  sort  of  isolated 


THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

bntte — was  the  only  eminence  of  any  considerable  elevation  foi 
miles  around,  and  the  site  of  the  camp  was  uporf  the  plain  that 
stretched  away  from  its  base,  apparently  beyond  limit. 

This  plain  was  what  is  termed  a  "pecan"  prairie — that  is  a 
prairie  half  covered  with  groves,  copses  and  lists  of  woodland, 
in  which  the  predominating  tree  is  the  pecan,  a  species  of 
hickory,  bearing  an  oval  edible  nut  of  commercial  value  (Carya 
oliviformis).  Between  the  pores  and  "  mottes"  of  timber  single 
trees  stood  apart,  their  heads  fully  developed  by  the  free 
play  given  to  their  branches.  These  park-looking  trees,  with 
the  coppice-like  groves  of  the  pecan,  lent  an  air  of  high  civiliza 
tion  to  the  landscape,  and  the  winding  stream,  whose  water  under 
the  still  lingering  rays  glistened  with  the  sheen  of  silver,  added 
to  the  deception.  Withal,  it  was  a  wilderness — a  beautiful 
wilderness.  Human  hands  had  never  planted  those  groves — 
human  agency  had  naught  to  do  with  the  formation  or  adorn 
ment  of  that  lovely  landscape. 

Upon  the  bank  of  the  stream,  and  about  half  a  mile  from 
the  base  of  the  hill,  stood  the  Indian  camp.  A  glance  at  th? 
position  showed  how  well  it  had  been  chosen — not  so  mucl 
for  defence,  as  to  protect  it  against  a  surprise. 

Assuming  the  lodge — there  was  but  one — as  the  centre  of  the 
camp,  it  was  placed  upon  the  edge  of  a  small  grove,  and  fronting 
the  stream.  From  the  tent  to  the  water's  edge,  the  plain 
sloped  gently  downward  like  the  glacis  of  a  fortification.  The 
smooth  sward  that  covered  the  space  between  the  trees  and  the 
water  was  the  ground  of  the  camp.  On  this  could  be  seen  the 
dusky  warriors,  some  afoot,  standing  in  various  attitudes  or 
moving  about,  others  reclining  upon  the  grass,  and  still  others 
bending  over  the  fires,  as  if  engaged  in  the  preparation  of  the 
evening  meal 

A  line  of  spears,  regularly  placed,  marked  the  allotment 
of  each.  These  slender  shafts — nearly  five  yards  in  length — 
rose  tall  above  the  turf,  like  masts  of  distant  ships,  displaying 


THE   COMANCHE   CAMP.  4-29 

their  profusion  of  pennons  and  bannerets  of  painted  plumes  and 
human  hair.  At  the  base  of  each  could  be  seen  the  gaudy 
shield,  the  bow  and  quiver,  the  embroidered  pouch,  and  the 
medicine-bag  of  the  owner  ;  and  grouped  around  many  of  them 
appeared  objects  of  a  far  different  character — objects  that  we 
could  not  contemplate  without  acute  emotion.  They  were 
women — enough  of  light  still  ruled  the  sky  to  show  us  their 
faces — they  were  white  women — the  captives.  Strange  were  my 
sensations  as  I  regarded  those  forms  and  faces,  but  they  were 
far  off.  Even  a  lover's  eye  was  unequal  to  the  distance. 

Flanking  the  camp,  on  right  and  left,  were  the  horses.  They 
occupied  a  broad  belt  of  ground,  for  they  were  staked  out  to 
feed,  and  each  was  allowed  the  length  of  his  lazo.  Their  line 
conveyed  to  the  rear,  and  met  behind  the  grove,  so  that  the 
camp  was  embraced  by  an  arc  of  browsing  animals,  the  river 
forming  its  chord.  Across  the  stream  the  encampment  did  not 
extend. 

I  have  said  that  the  spot  was  well  selected  to  guard  against  a 
surprise.  Its  peculiar  adaptability  consisted  in  the  fact,  that 
the  little  grove  that  backed  the  camp,  was  the  only  timber 
within  a  radius  of  a  thousand  yards.  All  around,  and  even 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  stream,  the  plain  was  treeless  and 
free  from  cover  of  any  kind.  There  were  no  inequalities  of 
ground — neither  break,  bush,  nor  scaur — to  shelter  the  approach 
of  an  enemy. 

Had  the  position  been  chosen  ?  or  was  it  accidental  ?  In 
such  a  place  and  at  such  a  time  it  was  not  likely  they  had 
any  fear  of  a  surprise — but  with  the  Indian,  caution  is  so 
habitually  exercised,  that  it  becomes  almost  an  instinct,  and 
doubtless  under  such  an  impulse,  and  without  any  prethought 
whatever,  the  savages  had  aptly  fixed  upon  the  spot  where  they 
were  encamped.  The  grove  gave  them  wood,  the  stream  water, 
the  plain  pabulum  for  their  horses.  With  one  of  these  last  for 
their  own  food,  they  had  all  the  requisites  of  an  Indian  camp. 


4:30  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

At  the  first  glance,  I  saw  the  strength  of  their  position. 
Not  so  much  with  the  eye  of  a  soldier  as  that  of  a  hunter 
and  bush  fighter  did  I  perceive  it.  In  a  military  sense,  it 
offered  no  point  of  defence  ;  but  it  could  not  be  approached  by 
stratagem,  and  that  is  all  the  horse-Indian  ever  fears.  Alarm 
him,  not  too  suddenly  give  him  five  minutes'  warning,  and  he 
cannot  be  attacked.  If  superior  in  strength,  you  may  chase 
him,  bub  you  must  be  better  mounted  than  he,  to  bring  him 
to  close  combat.  Retreat,  not  defence,  is  generally  the  leading 
idea  of  Comanche  strategy,  unless  when  opposed  to  a  Mexican 
foe.  Then  he  will  stand  fight,  with  the  courage  of  a  master. 

As  I  continued  to  gaze  at  the  Indian  encampment,  my  heart, 
sank  within  me.  Except  under  cover  of  a  dark  night — a  very 
dark  night — it  could  not  be  entered.  The  keenest  spy  could  not 
have  approached  it — it  appeared  unapproachable. 

The  same  thought  must  at  that  moment  have  occupied  the 
minds  of  my  companions.  I  saw  the  gloom  of  disappointment 
on  the  brows  of  all,  silent  and  sullen.  None  of  them  said  a 
word.  They  had  not  spoken  since  we  came  upon  the  ground. 

What  think  you,  reader,  were  the  emotions  that  thrilled 
my  soul  as  the  conviction  was  forced  upon  me  that  she  I  sought 
was  thus  separated  from  me  by  an  impassable  barrier,  the 
attempting  to  penetrate  which  would  in  all  probability  result  in 
my  own  destruction  and  her  inevitable  captivity — the  more  pro 
longed  and  the  more  severe  from  the  very  fact  that  she  had 
friends  among  the  pale-faces — the  bitter  enemies  of  her  captors. 
Although  the  impulses  of  my  nature  prompted  me  individually  to 
dare  every  danger  in  the  mad  hope  of  rescuing  Isolina,  yet  a 
moment's  reflection  convinced  me  of  the  inutility  of  the  attempt, 
and  I  chafed  like  an  untamed  mustang  which  "n  vain  draws  upon 
the  lazo  which  checks  his  flight. 


NO    COVER.  431 

CHAPTER   LXXXYII. 

NO  COVER. 

IN  silence  I  continued  to  scrutinize  the  camp,  but  could  dis 
cover  no  mode  of  approaching  it  secretly,  or  in  safety. 

As  I  have  said,  the  adjacent  plain,  for  nearly  a  thousand 
yards'  radius,  was  smooth  grass-covered  prairie.  Even  the  grass 
was  short.  It  would  scarcely  have  sheltered  the  smallest  game, 
much  less  afford  shelter  for  the  body  of  a  man — much  less  for 
that  of  a  horse. 

I  would  willingly  have  crawled  on  hands  and  knees  over  the 
half  mile  that  separated  us  from  the  encampment  ;  but  that 
would  have  been  of  no  service.  I  might  just  as  well  have  walk 
ed  erect.  Erect,  or  prostrate,  I  should  be  seen  all  the  same  by 
the  occupants  of  the  camp,  or  the  guards  of  the  horses.  Even 
if  I  succeeded  in  effecting  an  entrance  within  the  lines,  what 
then  ?  Even  should  I  succeed  in  finding  Isolina,  what  hope  was 
there  of  our  getting  off  ? 

There  was  no  probability  of  our  being  able  to  leave  the  lines 
unseen — not  the  least.  We  should  certainly  be  pursued,  and 
what  chance  for  us  to  escape?  It  was  not  probable  we  could 
run  for  a  thousand  yards  with  the  hue  and  cry  after  us  ? 
No,  we  should  be  overtaken — re-captured — speared  or  toma 
hawked  upon  the  spot ! 

The  design  I  had  formed  was  to  have  brought  my  horse  as 
close  as  possible  to  the  Indian  lines — to  have  left  him  under 
cover,  and  within  such  distance  as  would  make  it  possible  to  reach 
him  by  a  run,  then  mounting  with  my  betrothed  in  my  arms,  to 
gallop  to  my  comrades.  These  I  had  intended  should  be  placed 
in  ambush,  as  near  to  the  camp  as  the  nature  of  the  ground 
would  permit.  But  my  preconceived  plan  was  entirely  frus 
trated  by  the  peculiar  situation  of  the  Indian  encampment.  I  had 


432  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

anticipated  that  there  would  be  either  trees,  brushwood,  or 
broken  ground  in  its  neighborhood,  under  shelter  of  which  we 
might  approach.  To  my  chagrin  there  was  none  of  the  three. 
There  was  no  timber  nearer  than  the  grove  in  which  we  were 
lying — the  copse  excepted,  and  to  have  reached  this  would  have 
been  to  enter  the  camp  itself. 

We  appeared  to  have  advanced  to  the  utmost  limit  possible 
that  afforded  cover.  A  few  feet  farther  would  have  carried  us 
outside  the  margin  of  the  timber  ;  and  then  we  should  have 
been  as  conspicuous  to  the  denizens  of  the  camp,  as  they  now 
were  to  us.  Forward  we  dare  not  stir,  not  a  step  farther. 

I  was  puzzled,  perplexed,  chagrined. 

Once  more  I  turned  my  eyes  upon  the  sky,  but  I  drew  not 
thence  a  ray  of  hope.  The  heavens  were  too  bright.  The  sun 
had  gone  down  in  the  west  ;  but  in  the  east  was  rising  full, 
round,  and  red,  almost  his  counterpart.  How  I  should  have 
welcomed  an  eclipse.  I  thought  of  omnipotent  power.  I 
thought  of  the  command  of  the  Israelitish  captain.  I  should 
have  joyed  to  see  the  shadow  of  the  opaque  earth  pass  over  that 
shining  orb,  rob  it  of  its  borrowed  light,  if  only  for  a  single 
hour. 

Eclipse  or  cloud  there  was  none — no  prospect  of  either — no 
hope  either  from  the  earth  or  the  sky. 

Yerily  then  must  I  abandon  my  design,  and  adopt  some 
other  for  the  rescue  of  my  betrothed  ?  What  other  ?  I  could 
think  of  no  other  that  might  be  termed  a  plan.  We  might  gal 
lop  forward,  and  openly  attack  the  camp  ?  Sheer  desperation 
alone  could  impel  to  such  a  course,  and  the  result  would  be  ruin 
to  all — to  her  among  the  rest.  We  could  not  hope  to  rescue 
her — nine  to  a  hundred — for  we  saw  and  could  now  count  our 
dusky  foemen. 

They  would  see  us  afar  off — would  be  prepared  to  receive  us 
prepared  to  hurl  their  masses  upon  us — to  destroy  us  altogether 
— sheer  desperation. 


NO    COVEK.  4-33 

What  other  plan  ?  what 

Something  of  one  occurred  to  me  at  that  moment.  A  slight 
shadow  of  it  had  crossed  my  mind  before.  It  seemed,  though 
fearfully  perilous,  practicable  ;  but  what  of  peril  ?  It  was  not 
the  time,  nor  was  I  in  the  mood  to  regard  danger.  Any  thing 
short  of  the  prospect  of  certain  death  had  no  terror  for  me 
then  ;  and  even  this  I  should  have  preferred  to  failure 

We  had  along  with  us  the  horse  of  the  captive  Comanche. 
Stanlield  had  brought  the  animal,  having  left  his  own  in  ex 
change.  My  new  design  was  to  mount  the  Indian  horse,  and 
ride  him  boldly  into  the  camp.  In  this  consisted  the  whole  of 
my  newly  conceived  scheme.  Surely  the  idea  was  a  good  one — 
a  slight  alteration  of  my  original  plan.  I  had  already  under 
taken  to  play  the  role  of  an  ladian  warrior,  while  within  the 
camp  :  it  would  only  require  me  to  begin  the  personation  outside 
the  lines,  and  make  my  entree  along  with  debut.  There  would  be 
more  dramatic  appropriates  ;s,  with  a  proportionate  increase  of 
danger.  But  I  did  not  jest  thus.  I  had  no  thought  of  merri 
ment  at  the  time.  The  travesty  I  had  undertaken  was  no  bur 
lesque. 

The  worst  feature  of  the  new  scheme  was  the  increased  risk 
of  being  brought  in  contact  with  the  friends  of  the  warrior  of 
the  red-hand — of  being  accosted  by  them,  and  of  course  expected 
to  make  reply.  How  could  I  avoid  meeting  them — one  or  more 
of  them  ?  If  interrogated,  how  shun  making  answer  ?  I  knew 
a  few  words  of  the  Comanche  tongue,  but  not  enough  to  hold  a 
conversation  in  it.  Either  my  false  accent  or  my  voice  would 
betray  me  I  True,  I  might  answer  in  Spanish.  Many. of  the 
Oomanches  speak  this  language  ;  but  my  using  it  would  appear 
a  suspicious  circumstance. 

There  was  another  source  of  apprehension.  I  could  not  con 
fide  in  the  Indian  horse.  He  had  endeavored  to  fling  Stan- 
field  all  along  the  way,  kicking  violently,  and  biting  at  his  rider 
while  seated  upon  his  back.  Should  he  behave  in  a  similar 

19 


£34  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

manner  with  me  while  entering  the  camp,  it  would  attract  the  at 
tention  of  the  Indians.  It  wonld  lead  to  scrutiny  and  sciir 
picion. 

Still  another  fear,  even  should  I  succeed  in  the  main  points,  it 
entering  the  camp,  finding  the  captive,  and  wresting  her  from 
the  hands  of  her  jailers — how  after  ?  I  could  never  depend 
upon  this  capricious  mustang  to  carry  us  clear  of  the  pursuit — 
there  would  be  others  as  swift,  perhaps  swifter  than  he,  and  we 
should  only  be  carried  back  to  die.  Oh  !  that  I  could  have 
taken  my  own  steed  near  to  the  lines  of  yonder  guard — oh  1 
that  I  could  have  ridden  him  there. 

It  might  not  be  ;  I  saw  that  it  could  not  be,  and  I  was 
forced  to  abandon  all  thought  of  it. 

I  had  well-nigh  made  up  my  mind  to  risk  all  the  chances  of 
my  assumed  character,  by  mounting  the  Indian  horse.  To  my 
comrades  I  imparted  the  idea,  and  asked  their  counsel. 

All  regarded  it  as  fraught  with  danger.  One  or  two  advised 
me  against  it.  They  were  those  who  did  not  understand  my 
motives — who  could  not  comprehend  the  sentiment  of  love — 
who  knew  not  the  courage  which  that  noble  passion  may  im 
part.  Little  understood  they  how  its  emotions  inspire  to  deeds 
of  daring — how  love  absorbs  all  selfishness,  even  life  becoming  a 
secondary  consideration,  when  weighed  against  the  happiness  or 
safety  of  its  object.  These  men  had  never  loved  as  I.  I  gave 
no  ear  to  their  too  prudent  counsels. 

Others  acknowledged  the  danger,  but  saw  not  how  I  could 
act  differently.  One  or  two  of  them  had,  in  their  lives'  course, 
experienced  a  touch  of  the  tender  feeling  akin  to  mine.  These 
could  appreciate  ;  and  counselled  me  in  consonance  with  my 
half-formed  resolution.  I  liked  their  counsel  best. 

One  had  not  yet  spoken— one  upon  whose  advice  I  placed  a 
higher  value  than  upon  the  combined  wisdom  of  all  the  others. 
I  bad  not  yet  had  the  opinion  of  the  earless  trapper. 

Oh,  how  I  longed  to  hear  him  speak — reflective — vacuum — 


RUBE   CONSULTING    HIS    ORACLE.  435 

bravo  and  sagacious  Rube  !  I  felt  as  if  his  assent  or  dissent 
would  decide  my  wavering — for  his  judgment  was  ever  clear, 
cool,  and  calculating  all  the  chances  of  success,  or  danger  of 
defeat. 


CHAPTER   LXXXVIII. 

RUBE  CONSULTING  HIS  ORACLE. 

HE  was  standing  apart  from  the  rest — leaning  I  should  rathev 
say,  for  his  body  was  not  erect,  but  diagonal.  In  this  attitude 
it  was  propped  by  his  rifle,  the  butt  of  which  was  steadied  against 
the  stump  of  a  tree,  while  the  muzzle  appeared  to  rest  upon  the 
bridge  of  Rube's  own  nose. 

As  the  man  and  the  piece  were  about  of  a  length,  the  two 
thus  placed  in  juxtaposition  presented  the  exact  figure  of  an 
inverted  Y,  and  the  small  close-capped  skull  of  the  trapper 
formed  a  sufficiently  tapering  apex  to  the  angle.  Both  hands 
were  clasped  round  the  barrel  near  its  muzzle,  his  fingers  inter 
locking  while  the  thumbs  lay  flat,  one  upon  each  side  of  his  n<>se, 

At  the  first  glance  it  was  difficult  to  tell  whether  he  was  gaz 
ing  into  the  barrel  of  the  piece,  or  beyond  it  upon  the  Indian 
camp. 

The  attitude  was  not  new  to  him,  nor  to  rqys.  It  was  no;,  the 
first  time  I  had  observed  him  in  a  posture  precisely  similar.  I 
knew  it  was  his  favorite  pose,  when  any  question  of  unusual 
difficulty  required  all  the  energy  of  his  "  instincts."  He  was 
now,  as  often  of  yore,  consulting  his  "divinity,"  presumed  to 
dwell  far  down  within  the  dark  tube  of  "  Targuts." 

After  a  time  all  the  others  ceased  to  speak,  and  stood  watch 
ing  him.  They  knew  that  no  step  would  be  taken  before 
Rube's  advice  had  been  received,  and  they  waited  with  more  O' 
less  patience  for  him  to  speak. 


436  THE   WAR-TKAIL. 

So  true  is  it,  that  among  no  class  of  men  is  such  deference 
paid  to  sagacity  and  courage  as  among  the  trappers  and  hunters, 
who  are  compelled  to  rely  so  much  upon  their  "  gifts  r  j? 
"  instincts,"  as  they  term  them — which  is  certainly  a  misnomer, 
as  they  are  not  attained  save  by  years  of  experience  and  study 
in  the  school  of  woodcraft. 

Full  ten  minutes  passed,  and  still  the  old  trapper  neither 
stirred  nor  spoke.  Nor  lip  nor  muscle  of  him  was  seen  to  move. 
The  eyes  alone  could  be  detected  in  motion,  and  these  small 
orbs,  scintillating  in  their  deep  sockets,  were  the  only,  signs  of 
life  which  he  showed.  Standing  rigid  and  still,  he  appeared  not 
a  statue  but  a  scarecrow  propped  up  by  a  stick,  and  the  long, 
weather-washed  rifle  did  not  belie  the  resemblance.  Full  ten 
minutes  passed,  and  still  he  spoke  not.  His  "oracle"  had  not 
yet  yielded  its  response. 

I  have  said  that  at  the  first  glance  it  was  difficult  to  tell 
whether  the  old  man  was  gazing  into  the  barrel  of  his  gun  or 
beyond  it.  After  watching  him  closely,  I  saw  that  he  was  doing 
both.  Now  his  eyes  were  a  little  raised,  as  if  he  looked  upon 
the  plain,  anon  they  were  lowered,  and  evidently  peering  into 
the  hollow  tube.  He  was  drawing  the  data  of  his  problem  from 
facts — he  was  trusting  to  his  divinity  for  the  solution. 

For  a  long  time  he  kept  up  this  singular  process  of  conjura 
tion,  alternating  his  glances  in  equal  distribution  between  the 
hollow  cylinder  aud  the  small  circle  of  vision  that  covered  the 
Indian  camp. 

The  others  began  to  grow  impatient;  all  were  interested  ia 
the  result,  and  not  without  reason.  Standing  upon  the  limits 
of  a  life-danger,  it  is  not  strange  they  should  feel  anxiety  about 
the  issue. 

So  far,  however,  none  had  offered  to  interrupt  or  question 
the  queer  old  man.  None  dared.  One  or  two  of  the  party  had 
already  had  a  taste  of  his  quality  when  fretted  or  interfered 
with,  and  no  one  desired  to  draw  upon  himself  the  sharp  "  talk  ' 
of  the  earless  trapper.  • 


RUBE  CONSULTING  HIS  ORACLE.  4:37 

Garey  at  length  approached,  but  not  until  Rube,  with  a 
triumphant  toss  of  his  head  and  a  scarcely  audible  "  whoop " 
from  his  thin  lips,  showed  signs  that  the  consultation  had  ended, 
and  that  the  "joss  "  who  dwelt  at  the  bottom  of  his  rifle  barrel, 
had  vouchsafed  an  answer! 

I  had  watched  him  with  the  rest.  I  liked  that  expressive 
Ditch  of  the  head;  I  liked  the  low  but  momentous  sibillation 
that  terminated  the  seance,  between  him  and  his  familiar  spirit. 
They  were  signs  that  the  knot  was  unravelled — that  the  old 
trapper  had  devised  some  possible  plan,  by  which  the  Indian 
camp  might  be  entered. 

Garey  and  I  drew  near,  but  not  to  question  him.  We  under 
stood  him  too  well  for  that.  We  knew  that  he  must  be  left  free 
to  develop  his  purpose  in  his  own  time;  and  we  left  him  free- 
simply  placing  ourselves  by  his  side. 

"Wai,  Billee!"  he  said,  after  drawing  a  long  breath,  "an* 
yerself,  young  fellur,  what  d'ee  both  think  o'  this  hyur  bizness — 
Jooks  ugly,  don't  it — eh,  boyees  ?" 

"  Taint  ugly,"  was  Garey 's  laconic  answer. 

"  Tho't  so  meeself  at  first." 

"  Thar  aint  no  plan  o'  fightin'  into  thar  camp,"  said  the  young 
trapper,  in  a  desponding  tone. 

"The  h —  thur  aintl  What  greenhorn  put  thet  idee  inter 
yur  brain-pan,  Bill  ?" 

"  Wai,  thar  are  a  plan,  but  taint  much  o'  a  one.  We've  been 
talkin'  it  over  hyar." 

"Le's  hear  it,"  responded  Rube,  with  an  exulting  chuckle; 
"  le's  hev  it,  boyee  !  an'  quick  Bill,  fur  time's  dodrotted  pre 
cious  'bout  now.  Wai  ?" 

"Its  jest  this,  Rube,  nyther  less  nor  more — the  capt'in  pro 
poses  to  take  the  Injun's  horse,  and  ride  straight  into  thar  camp." 

"  Strait  custrut  in  do'ee  ?" 

"  In  course — it  ud  be  no  use  gwine  about  the  bush — they 
kin  see  him  a  comin'  from  any  side." 


4:38  THE  WAB-TKAIL. 

"I'll  be  durned  ef  they  kin— thet  I'll  be  darned.  Wagh! 
they  cudn't  a  see  me — thet  they  cudn't,  ef  every  nigger  o'  'em 
hed  the  eyes  o'  an  Argoose — thet  they  cudn't,  Billee." 

"  How  ?"  I  inquired.  "  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  it  is  possi 
ble  for  any  one  to  appoach  yonder  camp  without  being 
observed?  Is  that  what  you  mean,  Rube  ?" 

"  That  ur  preezactly  what  I  mean,  young  fellur;  no,  not 
adzactly  thet,  eyther.  One  o'  you  I  didn't  say.  What  I  said 
wur  thet  this  hyur  trapper,  Rube  Rawlins  o'  the  Rocky  Moun 
tains,  kud  slide  inter  yander  campmint  jest  like  greased  lightnin' 
through  a  gooseberry-bush,  'ithout  e'er  an  Injun  seein'  'im ;  and 
thet  too  ef  the  red  skinned  varmints  hed  more  eyes  in  thui 
heads  than  they  hev  lice;  which,  accordin'  to  this  child's  recknin', 
ud  give  ivery  squaw's  son  o'  the  gang  as  miny  peepers  as  thur 
ur  spots  in  a  peacock's  tail,  an'  a  wheen  over  to  breed,  I  kalker- 
late.  No  plan  to  git  inter  thur  camp  'ithout  bein'  seed! 
Wagh  !  yur  gettin'  green,  Bill  Garey." 

"  How  can  it  be  accomplished,  Rube  ?  Pray  explain.  You 
know  how  impatient  "— 

"  Don't  git  impayshent,  young  fellur  1  thet  ur's  no  use  whet- 
somdever.  Yu'll  need  payshinse,  an'  a  good  grist  o'  thet  ur, 
afore  ye  kin  warm  yur  shins  at  yander  fires;  but  ee  kin  do  it, 
an'  in  the  nick  o'  time  too,  ef  yu'll  go  preezactly  accordin'  to 
what  ole  Rube  tells  ye,  an'  keep  yur  eye  well  skinned,  an'  yur 
teeth  from  chatterin' — I  knows  yu'll  do  all  thet.  I  knows  yur 
weasel  to  the  back  o'  yur  neck,  an'  kin  whip  yur  weight  in  wildcats 
any  day  i'  the  year.  Now,  d'yur  agree  to  follur  my  dereckshuns  ?" 

"  I  promise  faithfully  to  act  according  to  your  advice." 

"  Thet  ur  sensible  sayed — durnation'd  sensible.  Wai,  then, 
I'll  gi'  ye  my  device." 

As  Rube  said  this,  he  moved  forward  to  the  edge  of  the  tim 
ber,  making  a  sign  for  Garey  and  myself  to  follow. 

On  reaching  its  outer  edge,  but  still  within  cover,  he  dropped 
down  upoa.  his  knees,  behind  some  evergreen  bushes. 


J  imitated  his  example,  and  kneeling  upon  his  right,  while 
Garey  crouched  down  on  the  left. 

Our  eyes  were  directed  upon  the  Indian  camp,  of  which,  and 
the  plain  around  it,  we  had  a  good  view — as  good  as  could  be 
obtained  under  the  light  of  a  too  brilliant  moon. 

After  we  had  surveyed  the  scene  for  some  moments  in  silence, 
.he  old  trapper  condescended  to  begin  the  conversation. 


CHAPTER    LXXXIX. 

THE    TRAPPER'S    COUNSEL. 

Bill  Garey,  an7  you  young  fellur,  jest  clap  yer  eyes  on 
thet  ere  campmint,  an7  see  ef  tbur  aint  a  road  lead  in'  inter  the 
very  heart  o'  it,  strait  as  the  tail  o'  a  skeert  fox — ?ce  see  it  ? 
eh?" 

"Not  under  kiver?"  replied  Garey,  interrogatively. 

"  Under  kiver — every  step  o'  the  way — the  best  o'  kiver." 

Garey  and  I  once  more  scrutinized  the  whole  circumference 
of  the  encampment,  and  the  ground  adjacent.  We  could  per 
ceive  no  cover  by  which  the  camp  could  be  approached.  Surely 
there  was  none. 

What  could  Rube  mean?  Were  there  clouds  in  the  sky? 
Had  he  perceived  some  portent  of  coming  darkness  ?  Had  his 
words  reference  to  this  ? 

I  raised  my  eyes,  and  swept  the  whole  canopy  with  inquiring 
glances  Up  to  the  zenith,  around  the  horizon,  east,  we&i, 
north,  and  south,  I  looked  for  clouds,  but  looked  in  vain.  A 
few  light  cirri  floated  high  in  the  atmosphere,  but  these,  even 
when  crossing  the  moon's  disc,  cast  no. perceptible  shadow.  On 
the  contrary,  they  were  tokens  of  settled  weather,  and  moving 
slowly,  almost  fixed  upon  the  face  of  the  heavens,  were  evidence 
that  no  sudden  change  might  be  expected.  When  the  trapper 


440  THE    WAE-TRAIL. 

talked  of  entering  the  camp  under  cover,  he  could  not  have 
meant  under  cover  of  darkness.  What  then  ? 

"  Don't  see  any  kiver,  old  boss  ?"  said  Garey,  after  a  pause  ; 
"  neyther  bush  nor  weed." 

"Bush!"  echoed  Rube,  "who's  talking  about  weeds  and 
bushes  ?  There's  other  ways  o'  hidin'  yur  karkidge  'sides  stick- 
in'  it  in  a  bush  or  under  a  weed.  Your  a  gettiu'  durnation'd 
pumpkin-headed,  Bill  Garey.  I  'gin  to  think  yur  in  the  same 
perdicament  as  the  young  fellur  hisself.  You've  been  a  humbug- 
gin'  wr'  one  o'  them  ur  Mexican  Moochachers." 

"  No,  Rube,  no."  ^ 

"  Duru  me  ef  I  don't  bleeve  you  hfe1,  boy.  I  heern  ye  tell 
one  o'  'em  " 

"  What  ?" 

"  Wagh  !  ye  know  well  enough.  Didn't  'ee  tell  one  o'  thur 
gurls  at  the  rancherie  that  ye  loved  her  as  hard  as  a  mule  kud 
kick — sartintly  ye  did  ;  them  wur  your  preezact  words,  Biliie." 

"  I  was  only  jokin',  hoss." 

"  Pretty  jokin'  that  will  be,  when  I  gits  back  to  Bent's  fort, 
an'  tell  yur  Coco  squaw — he — he — he — ho — ho — ho  !  Gee 
hosophat  !  thur  will  be  a  rumpus." 

"  Nonsense,  Rube,  thar's  nothen  ov  it." 

"  Thar  must  a  be — yur  brain  pan's  out  o'  order — Bill,  ye  haint 
hed  a  clur  idee  for  nine  days  back.  Bushes  and  weeds  too. 
Wagh  !  Who  sayed  thur  wur  bushes.  Whar's  yur  eyes  ?  d'ye 
see  a  bank  ?" 

"  A  bank  ?"  echoed  Garey  and  I,  simultaneously. 

"  Ye-es,"  drawled  Rube,  "  a  bank.  I  guess  there's  a  bank, 
right  afore  yur  noses,  ef  both  o'  you  aint  as  blind  as  the  kittens 
o'  a  possum.  Now,  do  *ee  see  it  ?" 

Neither  of  us  made  reply  to  the  final  interrogatory.  For  the 
5rst  time,  we  began  to  comprehend  Rube's  meaning,  and  our 
eyes  as  well  as  thoughts  were  suddenly  directed  upon  the  object 
indicated  by  his  words — the  bank  of  the  stream — for  to  this  he 
referred. 


I  have  stated  that  the  little  river  ran  close  to  the  Indian 
lines,  and  on  one  side  formed  the  boundary  of  the  camp. 

We  could  tell  that  the  current  was  towards  us  ;  for  the 
stream,  on  reaching  the  hill  upon  which  we  were,  turned  sharply 
off  and  swept  round  its  base.  The  Indian  camp  was  on  the  left 
bank,  though  upon  its  right,  when  viewed  up  stream,  as  we  were 
regarding  it.  Any  one  proceeding  up  the  left  bank  must,  there 
fore,  necessarily  pass  within  the  lines,  and  through  among  the 
horses  that  were  staked  nearest  to  the  water. 

It  need  riot  be  supposed  that  under  our  new  scrutiny  the 
stream  had  hitherto  escaped  observation.  I  myself  had  long 
ago  thought  of  it,  as  a  means  of  covering  my  approach.  Time 
after  time  had  my  eyes  dwelt  upon  it,  but  without  result.  In 
its  channel  I  could  perceive  no  shelter  from  observation.  Its 
banks  were  low,  and  without  either  rush  or  bush  upon  them 
The  green  turf  of  the  prairie  stretched  up  to  the  very  brink, 
and  scarce  twelve  inches  below  its  level  was  the  surface  of  the 
current.  This  was  especially  the  case  along  the  front  of  the 
encampment,  and  for  some  distance  above  and  below. 

Any  one  endeavoring  to  enter  the  camp  by  stealing  up  the 
channel,  must  have  gone  completely  under  the  water — for  even 
a  swimmer  could  have  been  observed  upon  its  surface.  Or  even 
if  a  man  could  have  approached  in  this  way,  there  was  no  hope 
that  a  horse  could  be  taken  near,  and  without  the  horse,  what 
prospect  of  ultimate  escape  ? 

It  had  seemed  to  me  impossible.  More  than  once  had  I  taken 
into  consideration,  and  as  often  rejected  the  idea.  Not  so 
Rube.  It  was  the  very  scheme  he  had  conceived,  and  he  no^ 
Voceeded  to  point  out  its  practicability. 

11  Now,  then,  'ee  see  a  bank,  do  'ee  ?" 

"  Taint  much  o'  a  bank,"  replied  Garey,  rather  discouVagingly. 

"  Xo — taint  as  high  as  Missoora  Bluffs,  nor  the  blluffs  o 
Snake  River — that  nob'dy  durnies — but  ef  taint  as  high  as  i\ 
mout  be,  it  ur  ivery  minnit  a-gettin  higher,  I  reck'u." 

19* 


442  1HE    WAR-TRAIL. 

"  Getting  higher,  you  say  ?" 

"Ye-es,  or  what  ur  putty  consid'able  the  same  thing,  thi 
tother  ur  a  gettin'  lower." 

"  The  water,  you  mean  ?" 

11  The  water  ur  a  falliri' — gwine  down  by  inches  at  a  jump, 
an  in  a  hour  from  this,  thur'll  be  bluffs  in  front  o'  the  camp, 
helf  a  yard  high — thet's  what  thur'll  be." 

"  And  you  think  I  could  get  into  the  camp  by  creeping 
under  there  ?" 

"  Sure  o't ;  whet's  to  hiuner  ye  ? — it  ur  as  easy  as  fallin'  off  a 
log" 

"  But  the  horse — how  could  I  bring  him  near  ?" 

"  Jest  the  same  way  as  yurself.  I  tell  yur,  the  bed  o'  that 
river  ur  deep  enuf  to  hide  the  biggest  hoss  in  creeashun.  'T  ur 
now  full  for  the  reezun  there's  been  a  fresh  in  consykwince  o' 
last  night's  rain  ;  'ee  needn't  mind  thet — the  hoss  kin  wade  or 
swim  eythur,  an'  the  bank  '11  kiver  'im  from  the  eyes  o'  the  Injuns. 
You  kin  leave  him  in  the  river." 

"  In  the  water  ?" 

"  In  coorse — yur  hoss  '11  stand  thur — an'  ef  he  don't,  you  kin 
tie  his  nose  to  the  bank.  You  kin  take  'im  as  near  as  you  please, 
but  don't  go  too  far  to  wind'rd,  else  them  mustangs  '11  smell 
'im,  and  then  it  ur  all  up  both  wi'  yurself  an'  yur  hoss.  About 
two  hundred  yurds  '11  be  yur  likliest  distance.  Ef  yur  git  the 
gurl  clur  ye  kin  easy  run  that,  I  reckin  ;  jest  start  for  the  hosss, 
an'  when  yur  mounted,  gallip  like  durnation  up  hyur  for  the 
timmer,  whur  we'll  be  cached,  an'  then,  durned  ef  the  red  skins 
don't  git  goss  out  o'  our  rifles — wagh !  thet's  the-  way  tur  do 
the  thing — it  ur." 

Certainly  the  plan  appeared  practicable  enough.  The  sinking 
of  the  water  was  a  new  element.  It  had  escaped  my  observa 
tion,  though  Rube  had  noted  it.  It  was  this  that  hac1  delayed 
him  so  long  in  giving  his  opinion.  He  had  been  watching  it 
while  leaning  upon  his  rifle,  though  none  of  the  rest  of  us  had 


TAKING   TO   THE   WATER.  443 

thought  of  such  a  thing.  He  remembered  the  heavy  rain  of  tho 
night  before.  He  saw  that  it  had  caused  a  freshet  in  the  little 
river,  that  its  subsidence  had  begun,  and  as  in  most  prairie 
streams,  it  was  progressing  with  rapidity.  His  keen  eye 
*iad  detected  a  fall  of  several  inches  during  ihe  half  hour  we 
lad  been  upon  the  ground.  I  could  myself  observe,  now  that 
the  thing  was  pointed  out  to  me  that  the  banks  were  higher 
f,han  before. 

Certainly  the  plan  of  approaching  by  the  stream  had  assumed 
a  more  feasible  aspect.  If  the  channel  should  prove  deep 
enough,  I  might  get  the  horse  sufficiently  near — the  rest  would 
have  to  be  left  to  stratagem  and  chance. 

"  Yur  ridin'  ic  vhe  Injuu  hoss,"  said  Rube,  "  would  never  do 
— it  mout  on  the  ^o-st  pinch,  an'  ef  ye  don't  git  in  the  tother 
way,  you  kin  still  try  ;i ;  but  you  cu'd  niver  git  acrosst  through 
the  picket;  them  mustang?  \d  be  sure  to  raise  sich  a  snortin'  and 
stonapin',  an'  whigerin'  as>  'ud  bring  the  hul  campraeiit  about 
ye,  and  some  o'  the  sharp  eyed  niggurs  ;ud  be  sartin  to  find  out 
yur  hide  wur  white.  Tother  way  ur  fur  the  safest — it  ur." 

I  was  not  long  in  making  up  my  mind.  Rube's  counsel  at 
once  decided  me,  and  I  resolved  to  act  accordingly. 


CHAPTER  XC. 

TAKING    TO    THE    W  A  T;  E  R  . 

I  SPENT  but  little  time  in  preparatioas.  These  had  been  made 
already. 

It  remained  only  to  tighten  my  saddle  girth,  look  to  the  caps 
of  my  revolvers,  and  place  both  pistols  and  knife  in  the  belt 
behind  my  back.  There  the  weapons  would  be  concealed  by  the 
pendent  robe  of  the  jaguar  skins.  In  a  few  minutes  I  was  ready 

I  still  loitered  awhile,  to  wait  for  the  falling  of  the  water 


4:44  THE    WAK-TEAIL. 

Not  long — I  was  too  anxious  to  tarry  long.  The  hour  of  tha 
council  might  be  come — I  might  be  too  late  for  the  crisis.  Not 
long  did  I  loiter. 

It  was  not  necessary.  Even  by  the  moonlight  we  could  dis 
tinguish  the  dark  line  of  the  bank  separating  the  grassy  turf 
from  the  surface  of  the  water.  The  rippling  current  was  shining 
like  silver-lace,  and  by  contrast,  the  dark  earthy  stripe  that 
roge  vertically  above  it,  could  be  observed  more  distinctly.  It 
was  sensibly  broader. 

I  could  wait  no  longer.  I  leaped  into  the  saddle.  My  com 
rades  crowded  around  me  to  say  a  parting  word.  With  a  wish 
or  a  prayer  upon  their  lips,  one  after  another  pressed  my  hand. 
Some  doubted  of  their  ever  seeing  me  again — I  could  tell  this 
from  the  tone  of  their  leave-taking  ;  others  were  more  confident. 
All  vowed  to  revenge  me  if  I  fell. 

Rube  and  Garey  went  with  me  down  the  hill.  At  the  point 
where  the  stream  infringed  upon  it  there  were  bushes.  These 
continued  up  the  declivity,  and  joined  the  timber  upon  the  sum 
mit.  Under  their  cover  we  had  descended,  reaching  the  bank 
just  at  the  salient  angle  of  the  bend.  A  thin  skirting  of  similar 
bushes  ran  around  the  base  of  the  hill,  and  following  the  path 
by  which  we  had  come,  the  ambuscade  might  have  been  moved 
a  little  nearer  to  the  camp.  But  the  cover  was  not  so  good  as 
the  grove  upon  the  summit,  and  in  case  of  a  retreat,  it  would  be 
necessary  to  gallop  up  the  naked  face  of  the  slope,  and  thus 
expose  cur  numbers.  It  was  decided,  therefore,  to  leave  the 
men  where  they  were. 

From  the  bend  to  the  Indian  camp  the  river  trended  almost  in 
a  straight  line,  and  its  long  reach  lay  before  my  eyes  like  a  band 
of  shining  metal.  Along  its  bank  the  bush  extended  no  further, 
A  single  step  towards  the  camp  would  have  exposed  me  to  the 
view  of  its  occupants. 

At  this  point,  therefore,  it  was  necessary  for  me  to  take  the 
water,  and  dismounting,  I  made  ready  for  the  immersion. 


TAKING    TO    THE    WATER.  145 

The  trappers  had  spoken  their  last  words  of  instruction  and 
counsel.  They  had  both  grasped  my  hand,  giving  it  a  siguifica.it 
squeeze  that  promised  more  than  words  :  but  to  these  too  had 
they  given  utterance. 

"  Don't  be  afeard,  capt'n  !"  said  the  younger  ;  "  Rube  and  I 
won't  be  far  off.  If  we  hear  your  pistols,  we'll  make  a  rush 
tor'st  you,  and  meet  you  half  way  anyhow  ;  and  if  anything 
should  happen  amiss" — here  Garey  spoke  with  emphasis — "you 
may  depend  on't,  we'll  take  a  bloody  revenge." 

"  Ye-es,"  echoed  Rube,  "  we'll  do  jest  thet — thur'll  be  many  a 
nick  in  Targuts  afore  next  Krissmuss,  ef  you  ur  rubbed  out, 
young  fellur — that  I  swear  to  ye — but  don't  be  skeeart !  Keep 
yur  eyes  sharp  skinned,  an'  your  claws  steady,  an'  thur's  no  feer 
but  you'll  get  clur — oncest  yur  clur  o'  the  camp,  'ee  may 
reckon  on  us — but  start  for  the  timmer,  an'  gallop  as  ef  olo 
scratch  wur  a  gruppin  at  the  tail  o'  yur  critter." 

I  waited  to  hear  no  more,  but  leading  Moro  down  the  bank 
at  a  place  where  it  sloped,  I  stepped  gently  into  the  current. 
My  well-trained  steed  followed  without  hesitation,  and  in  another 
instant  we  were  both  breast  deep  in  the  flood.  The  water  was 
just  the  depth  I  desired.  There  was  a  half  yard  of  bank  that 
rose  vertically  above  the  surface,  and  this  was  .sufficient ,  to 
shelter  either  my  own  head  as  I  stood  erect,  or  the  frontlet  of 
ray  horse.  Should  the  channel  continue  of  uniform  depth  as  far 
as  the  camp,  the  approach  would  be  easy  indeed,  and,  for  certain, 
hydrographic  reasons,  I  was  in  hopes  it  would. 

The  plumes  of  the  Indian  bonnet  rose  above  the  level  of 
the  meadow  turf;  and  as  these  feathers,  dyed  of  gay  colors, 
would  have  formed  a  conspicuous  object,  I  took  off  the  gaudy 
head-dress  and  carried  it  in  my  hand.  I  also  raised  the  robe  of 
jaguar  skin  over  my  shoulders,  in  order  to  keep  it  dry,  and  for  the 
same  reason  I  temporarily  carried  my  pistols  above  the  water-line 

The  making  of  these  slight  alterations  occupied  only  a  minute 
or  so,  and  as  soon  as  they  were .  completed,  I  moved  forward 


• 


44:6  THE   WAK-TKAIL. 

through  the  water.  The  very  depth  of  the  stream  proved  a  cir 
cumstance  in  my  favor.  In  wading,  both  horse  and  man  make 
less  noise  in  deep  than  in  shallow  water,  and  this  was  an 
important  consideration.  The  night  was  still — too  still  for  iny 
wishes — and  the  plunging  sound  would  have  been  heard  afar  oft', 
but  fortunately,  there  were  rapids  below,  just  where  the  stream 
forced  its  way  through  the  spur  of  the  hill,  and  the  hissing  sough 
there,  louder  in  the  still  night,  was  borne  upon  the  air  to  the 
distance  of  many  miles.  Their  noise  to  my  own  ears  almost 
drowned  the  plashing  made  by  Moro  and  myself.  I  had  noted 
this  point  cPavantage,  before  embarking  upon  the  enterprize. 

At  the  distance  of  two  hundred  yards  from  the  bushes,  I 
paused  to  look  back.  My  purpose  was  to  fix  in  my  memory  the 
direction  of  the  hill,  and  more  especially  the  point  where  my 
comrades  had  been  left  in  ambush.  In  the  event  of  a  close 
pursuit,  it  would  not  do  to  mistake  their  exact  situation. 

I  easily  made  out  the  place,  and  saw  that,  for  several  reasons, 
a  better  could  not  have  been  chosen.  The  trees  that  timbered 
the  crest  of  the  hill  were  of  a  peculiar  kind,  more  so  upon 
the  face  of  the  earth.  They  were  a  species  of  arborescent 
yucca,  then  unknown  to  botanists.  Many  of  them  were  forty 
feet  in  height,  and  their  thick  angular  branches  and  terminal 
fascicles  of  rigid  leaves,  outlined  against  the  sky,  formed  a  singu 
lar,  almost  an  unearthly  spectacle.  It  was  unlike  any  other 
vegetation  upon  earth,  more  resembling  a  grove  of  cast  iron  than 
a  wood  of  exogenous  trees. 

Why  I  regarded  the  spot  as  favorable  for  an  ambush,  was 
chiefly  this  :  a  party  approaching  it  from  the  plain,  and  climb 
ing  the  hill,  might  fancy  a  host  of  enemies  in  their  front,  for  the 
trees  themselves,  with  their  heads  of  radiating  blades,  bore  a 
itriking  resemblance  to  an  array  of  plumed  gigantic  warriors. 
Many  of  the  yuccas  were  only  six  feet  in  height,  with  tufted 
heads  and  branchless  trunks  as  gross  as  the  body  of  a  man,  and 
these  might  readily  have  been  mistaken  for  human  beings. 


TJP    STREAM.  44:7 

I  saw  at  a  glance  the  advantage  of  the  position,  should  the 
Indians  pursue  me,  and  I  could  succeed  in  reaching  the  timber 
before  them.  A  volley  from  my  comrades  would  check  the 
pursuers,  however  numerous.  The  nine  rifles  would  be  enough, 
with  a  few  shots  from  the  revolvers.  The  ravages  would  fancy 
nine  hundred  under  the  mystifying  shadows  of  that  spectral-like 
grove. 

With  confidence,  strengthened  by  these  considerations,  I  once 
more  turned  my  face  up  stream,  and  breasting  the  current, 
kept  on. 


CHAPTER     XCI. 

UP   STREAM. 

MY  advance  was  far  from  being  rapid.  The  water  was  occa 
sionally  deeper  or  shallower,  but  generally  rising  above  my  hips, 
deep  enough  to  render  wading  a  task  of  time  and  strength.  The 
current  was  of  course  against  me,  and  though  not  very  swift, 
seriously  impeded  my  progress.  I  could  have  advanced  more 
rapidly,  but  for  the  necessity  of  keeping  my  head  and  that  of  my 
horse  below  the  escarpment  of  the  bank.  At  times  it  was  a 
close  fit,  with  scarce  an  inch  to  spare,  and  in  several  places  1 
was  compelled  to  move  with  my  back  bent,  and  my  horse's 
nose  was  held  down  to  the  surface  of  the  water. 

At  intervals  I  paused  to  rest  myself,  for  the  exertion  of  wading 
against  the  current  wearied  me,  and  took  away  my  breath.  This 
was  particularly  the  case  when  I  was  required  to  crouch,  but  I 
chose  my  resting-place  where  the  channel  was  deepest,  and  where 
]  could  stand  erect. 

I  was  all  the  time  anxious  to  look  up  and  take  a  survey  of 
the  camp.  I  wished  to  ascertain  its  distance  and  position  ;  but 
I  dared  not  raise  my  head  above  the  level  of  the  bank.  The 


44:8  THE    WAR-TKAIL, 

sward  that  covered  it  was  smooth  as  a  mowb  meadow,  and  the 
edge  line  of  the  turf  even  and  unbroken.  Had  I  shown  but  my 
hand  above  it,  it  might  have  been  seen  in  the  clear  white  light. 
T  dared  not  show  either  the  hand  or  head. 

I  had  advanced  I  know  not  how  far,  but  I  fancied  I  must  be 
near  the  lines.  All  the  way  I  had  kept  close  under  the  left 
bank,  which,  as  Rube  had  predicted,  now  rose  a  full  half  yard 
above  the  water's  line.  This  was  a  favorable  circumstance,  and 
another  equally  so  was  the  fact  that  the  moon  on  that — the 
eastern  side — was  yet  low  in  the  sky,  and  consequently  the  bank 
flung  a  broad  black  shadow  that  extended  nearly  half  way  across 
the  stream.  In  this  shadow  I  walked  ;  and  its  friendly  darkness 
sheltered  both  myself  and  my  horse. 

I  fancied  I  must  be  near  the  lines,  and  longed  to  reconnoitre 
them,  but  for  the  reason  already  given,  dare  not. 

I  was  equally  afraid  to  make  any  further  advance  ;  for  that 
would  be  still  more  perilous.  I  had  already  noted  the  direction 
of  the  wind.  It  blew  from  the  river,  and  towards  the  camp  ; 
and  should  I  bring  my  horse  opposite  the  line  of  the  mustangs, 
I  would  then  be  directly  to  windward  of  them,  and  in  danger 
from  their  keen  nostril.  They  would  be  almost  curtain  to  take 
up  the  scent  of  my  steed,  and  utter  their  warning  snorts.  The 
breeze  was  light,  but  so  much  the  worse.  There  was  sufficient 
to  convey  the  smell,  and  not  enough  to  drown  the  plunging 
noise  necessarily  made  by  my  horse  moving  through  the  water, 
with  the  hollow  pounding  of  his  hoofs  upon  the  rocks  at  the 
bottom. 

If  I  raised  my  head  over  the  bank,  there  was  the  danger  of 
being  observed  ;  if  I  advanced,  the  prospect  was  one  of  still 
greater  peril. 

For  some  moments  I  stood  hesitating — uncertain  as  to  whe 
ther  I  should  leave  my  horse,  or  lead  him  a  little  further.  I 
heard  noises  from  the  camp,  but  they  were  not  distinct  enough 
to  guide. 


UP    BTKEAM.  449 

I  looked  back  down  the  river  with  the  hope  of  being  able  to 
calculate  the  distance  I  had  come,  and  by  that  means  decide 
where  I  was.  But  my  observations  furnished  no  data  by  which 
I  could  determine  my  position.  With  iny  eyes  almost  on  a  level 
with  the  surface  of  the  water,  I  could  not  judge  satisfactorily  of 
distance. 

I  turned  my  face  up-stream  and  again,  scrutinized  the  parapet 
line  of  the  bank.  Just  then  I  saw  an  object  over  the  edge,  that 
answered  well  to  guide  me.  It  was  the  croup  and  hip  bones  of 
a  horse — one  of  the  mustangs  staked  near  the  bank.  I  saw 
neither  the  head  nor  shoulders  of  the  animal.  Its  hind  quarters 
were  towards  the  stream.  Its  head  was  to  the  grass — it  was 
browsing. 

The  sight  gratified  me  :  the  mustang  was  full  two  hundred 
yards  above  the  point  I  had  reached.  I  knew  that  its  position 
marked  the  outer  line  of  the  encampment.  I  was  just  in  the 
place  where  I  wanted  to  be — about  two  hundred  yards  from 
their  lines — just  at  the  distance  I  desired  to  leave  my  horse. 

I  had  taken  the  precaution  to  bring  with  me  my  picket  pin — 
one  of  the  essentials  of  the  prairie  traveller.  It  was  the  work 
of  a  moment  to  delve  it  into  the  bank.  I  needed  not  to  drive  ir 
with  violence  :  my  well-trained  steed  never  broke  fastening,  how 
ever  slight.  With  him  the  stake  was  only  a  sign  that  he  was 
not  free  to  wander. 

In  a  moment  he  was  staked  ;  and  with  a  "  whisper  "  I  parted 
from  him  ;  and  kept  on  up-stream. 

I  had  not  gone  a  dozen  yards  further,  when  I  perceived  a 
break  in  the  line  of  the  bank.  It  was  a  little  "  gulley,"  that  led 
slanting  from  the  level  of  the  prairie  down  to  the  bed  of  the 
stream.  Its  counterpart  I  perceived  on  the  opposite  side.  The 
two  indicated  a  ford  or  crossing,  used  by  buffaloes,  wild  horses, 
and  other  denizens  of  the  prairie. 

At  first  I  viewed  it  with  apprehension.  I  feared  it  might  un 
cover  my  body  to  the  eyes  of  the  enemy,  but  on  coming  opposite 


1:50  THE   WAR-TKAJL. 

my  fears  were  allayed.  The  slope  was  abrupt,  and  the  high 
ground  screened  me  as  before.  There  would  be  no  danger  in 
passing  the  place. 

As  I  was  about  moving  on,  an  idea  arrested  me  ;  and  I  paused 
to  regard  the  gulley  with  a  look  of  greater  interest.  It  offered 
me  an  advantage. 

I  had  been  troubled  about  the  position  in  which  I  had  left  my 
horse.  Should  I  succeed  in  getting  back,  of  course  it  would  be 
under  the  pressure  of  hot  pursuit,  and  my  steed  was  not  conve 
niently  placed.  His  back  was  below  the  level  of  the  bank.  He 
might  easily  be  mounted,  but  how  got  out  of  the  bed  of  the 
stream.  Only  by  a  desperate  leap  might  he  reach  the  plain 
above,  and  he  might  fail  in  the  effort — time  might  be  lost,  when 
time  and  speed  would  be  most  wanted. 

I  had  been  troubled  with  this  thought.  It  need  trouble  ma 
no  longer.  The  "crossing"  afforded  easy  access  either  to  or 
from  the  channel  of  the  river — the  very  thing  I  wanted. 

I  was  not  slow  to  profit  by  the  discovery.  I  turned  back, 
and  having  released  the  rein,  led  my  horse  gently  up  to  the 
break. 

Choosing  a  spot  under  the  highest  part  of  the  bank,  I  fasten 
ed  him  as  before,  and  there  left  him. 

I  now  moved  with  more  ease  and  confidence,  but  with  in 
creased  caution.  I  was  getting  too  near  to  risk  making  the 
slightest  noise  in  the  water.  A  single  plash  might  betray  me. 

It  was  my  intention  to  keep  in  the  channel  until  I  had  passed 
the  point  where  the  horses  were  staked.  By  so  doing  I  should 
avoid  crossing  the  line  of  the  horse-guards,  and  what  was  quite 
as  important,  that  of  the  horses  themselves,  for  I  was  equally 
apprehensive  of  being  discovered  by  the  latter.  Once  inside 
their  circle,  they  would  take  no  notice  of  me,  for,  doubtless, 
there  would  be  other  Indians  within  sight,  and  I  trusted  to  my 
well  counterfeited  semblance  of  savagery  to  deceive  tiie  eyes  of 
t^e  equine  sentinels. 


UP    STREAM.  451 

1  did  not  wish  to  go  far  beyond  their  line.  That  would  bring 
ft*-  in  front  of  the  camp  itself,  too  near  its  fires  and  its  idle 
groups. 

I  had  noticed  before  starting,  that  there  was  a  broad  belt  be 
tween  the  place  occupied  by  the  men,  and  that  where  their 
horses  were  staked.  This  "neutral"  ground  was  little  used 
by  the  camp-loungers,  and  somewhere  on  the  edge  of  it  I  was 
desirous  of  making  my  entree. 

I  succeeded  to  my  utmost  wishes.  Closely  hugging  the  bank, 
I  passed  the  browsing  mustangs  ;  under  their  very  noses  I 
glided  past,  for  I  could  hear  them  munching  the  herbage  right 
over  me,  but  so  silently  did  I  steal  along,  that  neither  snort  nor 
hoof-stroke  heralded  my  advance. 

In  a  few  minutes  I  was  sufficiently  beyond  them  to  make  a 
halt.  I  raised  my  head — slowly  and  gently  I  raised  it — till  my 
eyes  were  above  the  level  of  the  prairie  slope.  No  one  was 
near.  I  could  see  the  swarth  savages  grouped  around  their 
fires,  but  they  were  an  hundred  yards  off,  or  more.  They  were 
capering  and  talking  and  laughing  ;  but  no  ear  was  bent,  and 
no  eye  seemed  turned  towards  me.  No  one  was  near. 

I  grasped  the  bank  with  my  hands,  and  drew  myself  out. 
Slowly  and  silently  I  ascended,  like  some  demon  from  the  dark 
trap-door  of  a  stage,  on  my  knees  I  reached  the  level  of  the 
turf,  and  then  gently  rising  to  my  feet,  I  stood  erect  within  the 
limits  of  the  Indian  camp,  to  all  appearance  as  complete  a 
Ravage  as  any  upon  the  ground  ! 


4:52  THE    WAK-TKAIL. 


,      CHAPTER    XCII. 

COUP    D'CEIL     OF     THE     CAMP. 

FOR  some  minutes  I  stood  motionless  as  a  statue.  I  stirred 
neither  hand  nor  foot,  lest. the  movement  should  catch  the  eye, 
either  of  the  horse-guards  or  those  moving  around  the  fires.  I 
had  already  donned  by  plumed  head-dress  before  climbing  out  of 
the  channel.  My  first  thought  was  to  replace  my  pistols  in  the 
belt  behind  my  back.  The  movement  was  stealthily  made;  and 
with  like  stealthy  action,  I  suffered  the  mantle  of  jaguar-skins 
to  drop  from  my  shoulders,  and  hang  to  its  full  length.  I  had 
saved  the  robe  from  getting  wet,  and  its  ample  skirt  now  served 
me  in  concealing  my  soaked  breech-cloth,  as  well  as  the  upper 
half  of  my  leggings.  These  and  the  moccasins  were,  of  course, 
saturated  with  water,  but  I  had  not  much  uneasiness  about  that. 
In  a  prairie  camp,  and  upon  the  banks  of  a  deep  stream,  an 
Indian  with  wet  leggings  could  not  be  a  spectacle  to  excite  sus 
picion.  There  would  be  many  reasons  why  my  counterpart 
might  choose  to  immerse  his  copper-colored  extremities  in  the 
river.  Moreover,  the  buckskin,  dressed  Indian-fashion,  was 
speedily  casting  the  water;  it  would  soon  drip  dry,  or,  even  if 
wet,  would  scarce  be  observed  under  such  a  light. 

The  spot  where  I  had  "landed,"  chanced  to  be  one  of  the 
least  conspicuous  in  the  whole  area  of  the  camp.  I  was  just 
between  two  lights — the  red  glare  of  the  camp-fires  and  the 
mellower  beams  of  the  moon  ;  and  the  atmospheric  confusion 
occasioned  by  the  meeting  of  the  distinct  kinds  of  light  favored 
me,  by  producing  a  species  of  optical  illusion.  It  was  but  slight, 
and  I  could  easily  be  seen  from  the  centre  of  the  camp,  but  not 
with  sufficient  distinctness  for  my  disguise  to  be  penetrated  by 


4:53 

any  one.  Therefore,  it  was  hardly  probable  that  any  of  the 
savages  would  approach,  or  trouble  their  heads  about  me.  I 
might  pass  for  one  of  themselves  indulging  in  a  solitary  saunter, 
yielding  himself  to  a  moment  of  abstraction  or  melancholy.  I 
was  well  enough  acquainted  with  Indian  life  to  know  that  there 
was  nothing  outre  or  unlikely  in  this  behavior.  Such  conduct 
was  perfectly  en  regie. 

1  did  not  remain  long  on  that  spot — only  long  enough  to 
catch  the  salient  features  of  the  scene.  I  saw  there  were  many 
fires,  and  around  each  was  grouped  a  number  of  human  forms — 
some  squatted,  some  standing.  The  night  was  cold  enough  to 
make  them  draw  near  to  the  burning  logs,  and  for  this  reason 
but  few  were  wandering  about — a  fortunate  circumstance  for  me. 

There  was  one  fire  larger  than  the  rest.  From  its  dimensions 
it  might  be  termed  a  bonfire,  such  as  is  made  by  the  flattering 
gnd  fluukeyish  peasanty  of  Old  World  lands  when  they  welcome 
home  the  squire  and  the  count.  It  was  placed  directly  in  front 
of  the  solitary  tent,  and  not  a  dozen  paces  from  its  entrance. 
Its  blazing  pile  gave  forth  a  flood  of  red  light  that  reached  even 
to  the  spot  where  I  stood,  and  flickered  in  my  face.  I  even 
fancied  I  could  feel  its  warmth  upon  my  cheeks. 

Around  this  fire  were  many  forms  of  men,  all  of  them  stand 
ing  up.  I  could  see  the  faces  of  those  who  were  upon  its  far 
ther  side,  but  only  the  figures  of  those  on  the  nearer.  The  for 
mer  I  could  see  with  almost  as  much  distinctness  as  if  I  had 
been  close  beside  them.  I  could  trace  the  lineaments  of  their 
features — the  painted  devices  on  their  breasts  and  faces — the 
style  of  their  habiliments. 

The  sight  of  these  last  somewhat  astonished  me.  I  had 
expected  to  see  red-skinned  warriors,  in  leggings,  moccasins, 
and  breech-cloth — with  heads  naked  or  plumed,  and  shoulders 
draped  under  brown  robes  of  buffalo-skin.  Some  such  there 
were,  but  not  all  of  them  were  so  costumed,  On  the  contrary, 
I  beheld  savages  shrouded  in  scrapes  and  cloaks  of  broadcloth, 


4:54:  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

with  calzoneros  on  their  legs,  and  upon  their  heads  huge  hats  of 
black  glaze — regular  Mexican  sombreros  !  In  short,  I  beheld 
numbers  of  them  in  full  Mexican  costume  1 

Others  again  were  dressed  somewhat  in  a  military  fashion, 
with  helmets  or  stiff  shakos,  ill-fitting  uniform  coats  of  red  or 
blue  cloth,  oddly  contrasting  with  the  brown  buckskin  that 
covered  their  legs  and  feet. 

With  some  astonishment  I  beheld  these  "  fancy  dresses,"  but 
my  surprise  passed  away  when  I  reflected  as  to  who  were  the 
men  before  me,  and  whence  they  had  lately  come — where  they 
had  been,  and  on  what  errand.  It  was  no  travesty,  but  a  scene 
of  actual  life.  The  savages  were  clad  in  the  spoils  they  had 
captured  from  civilization. 

I  need  not  have  been  at  such  pains  with  my  toilette.  Under 
any  guise  I  could  scarce  have  looked  odd  in  the  midst  of  such  a 
motley  crew.  Even  my  own  uniform  might  have  passed  muster 
— all  except  the  color  of  my  skin. 

Fortunately,  a  few  of  the  band  still  preserved  their  native 
costume — a  few  appeared  in  full  paint  and  plumes,  else  I  should 
have  been  too  Indian  for  such  a  company  ! 

It  cost  not  a  minute  to  note  these  peculiarities,  nor  did  I 
stay  to  observe  them  minutely.  My  eyes  were  in  search  of 
Isolina, 

I  cast  inquiring  glances  on  all  sides.  I  scrutinized  the  groups 
around  the  different  fires.  I  saw  other  women,  whom  I  knew  to 
be  captives,  but  I  saw  not  her. 

I  scanned  their  forms,  and  the  faces  of  those  who  were  turned 
towards  me.  A  glance  would  have  been  enough.  I  could 
easily  have  recognized  her  face  under  the  fire  light — under  any 
light.  It  was  not  before  me. 

"  In  the  tent — in  the  tent.     She  must  be  there." 

I  hastened  to  move  away  from  the  spot  where  I  had  hitherto 
been  standing.  My  eye,  quickened  by  the  necessity  of  action, 
had  fallen  upon  the  copse  that  covered  the  entire  background  of 


A   FRIENDLY   ENCOUNTER.  455 

tne  camp.  At  a  glance  I  detected  the  advantage  offered  by  its 
shadowy  cover. 

The  tent  was  placed  close  to  the  edge  of  the  timber  ;  and  in 
front  of  the  tent,  as  already  stated,  was  the  great  fire.  Plainly, 
this  was  the  gravitating  point — the  centre  of  motive  and  motion. 

If  aught  of  interest  was  to  be  enacted,  there  would  lie  the 
scene.  In  the  lodge,  or  near  it,  would  she  be  found.  Certainly 
she  must  be  there  ;  and  there  I  resolved  to  seek  her. 


CHAPTER    XCIIL 

A     FRIENDLY     ENCOUNTER. 

JUST  then  the  shrill  voice  of  a  crier  pealed  through  the  camp, 
and  I  observed  an  unusual  movement.  I  could  not  make  out 
what  the  man  said,  but  the  peculiar  intonation  told  that  he  was 
uttering  some  signal  or  summons.  Something  of  interest  was 
about  to  transpire. 

The  Indians  now  commenced  circling  around  the  blazing  pile, 
meeting  and  passing  each  other,  as  if  threading  the  mazes  of 
some  silent,  and  solemn  dance.  Others  were  seen  hastening 
from  distant  parts  of  the  camp,  as  if  to  observe  the  actions  of 
those  around  the  fire  ;  or  join  with  them  in  the  movement. 

I  did  not  wait  to  watch  them.  Their  attention  thus  occu 
pied  gave  me  an  opportunity  of  reaching  the  copse  unobserved, 
and  without  further  ado,  I  started  towards  it. 

I  walked  slowly,  and  with  an  assumed  air  of  careless  indiffer 
ence.  I  counterfeited  the  Comanche  walk — not  that  bold,  free 
port,  the  magnificent  and  inimitable  stride,  so  characteristic  of 
Chippewa  and  Shawano,  Huron,  and  Iraquois — but  the  shuffling, 
gingery  step  of  an  English  jockey,  for  such  in  reality  is  the 
of  the  Comanche  Indian,  when  a-foot. 


4:56  THE    WAIf-TKAIL. 

I  must  have  played  my  part  well.  A  savage  crossing  from 
the  horse-guards  towards  the  great  fire  passed  near  me,  and 
hailed  me  by  name. 

"  Wakono  /"  cried  he. 

"  Que  cosa  ?  Well — what  matter  ?"  I  replied  in  Spanish, 
imitating  as  well  as  I  could  the  Indian  voice  and  accent.  It 
was  a  venture,  but  I  was  taken  at  a  .short,  and  could  not  well 
remain  silent. 

The  man  appeared  some  little  surprised  at  being  addressed 
in  the  language  of  Mexico.  Nevertheless,  he  understood  it,  and 
made  rejoinder. 

"  You  hear  the  summons,  Wakono  ?  Why  do  you  not 
come  forward  ?  The  council  meets.  Hissooroyo  is  already 
there." 

I  understood  what  was  said,  more  from  the  Indians  gestures 
than  his  speech,  though  the  words  "summons,"  "council,"  and 
the  name  "  Hisscoroyo  "  helped  nie  to  comprehend  his  meaning. 
I  chanced  to  know  the  Comanche  epithet  for  the  two  first,  and 
also  that  Hissooroyo  (the  Spanish  wolf)  was  the  Indian  appella 
tion  of  the  Mexican  renegade. 

Though  I  understood  what  was  said,  I  was  not  prepared  "vith 
a  reply.  I  dared  not  risk  the  answer  in  Spanish,  for  I  knew  net 
the  extent  of  Wakono's  proficiency  in  the  Andalusian  tongue. 

I  felt  myself  in  a  dilemma,  and  the  importunate  savage — no 
doubt  some  friend  of  Wakono  himself — appeared  determined  to 
stick  to  me.  How  was  I  to  get  rid  of  him  ? 

A  happy  idea  came  to  my  relief.  Assuming  an  air  of  ex 
treme  dignity,  arid  as  though  I  did  not  wish  to  be  disturbed  IL 
my  meditations,  I  raised  my  hand  and  waved  the  man  a  parting 
salute.  At  the  same  time,  I  turned  my  head  and  walked  slowly 
away. 

The  Indian  accepted  the  conge,  and  moved  off,  but  evidently 
with  an  air  of  reluctance.  As  I  glanced  back  over  my  shoulder, 
I  could  see  him  starting  from  the  spot  with  a  hesitating  step, 


A    FRIENDLY    ENCOUNTER.  457 

no  doubt  somewhat  astonished  ao  the  straiige  behavior  of  Ins 
friend  Wakono. 

I  did  not  look  back  again,  until  I  had  placed  myself  under 
the  shadow  of  the  timber.  Then  I  turned  to  reconnoitre.  My 
friend  had  continued  on  to  the  fire.  I  saw  him  just  entering 
among  the  crowd  that  circled  around  the  great  fire. 

Screened  from  observation  by  the  shadow,  1  could  now  pause 
and  reflect.  The  trifling  incident  that  had  caused  me  some 
apprehension,  had  also  helped  me  to  some  useful  knowledge. 
First,  I  learned  my  own  name.  Second,  that  there  was  a  coun 
cil  about  to  take  place — and  thirdly,  that  the  renegade,  Hissoo- 
royo,  had  something  to  do  with  this  council. 

This  was  knowledge  of  importance  ;  combined  with  my  pre 
vious  information,  everything  was  now  made  clear.  This  council 
could  be  no  other  than  the  jury- trial  between  the  renegade  and 
the  yet  nameless  chief ;  the  same  that  was  to  decide  to  which 
belonged  the  right  of  property  in  my  betrothed. 

It  was  about  to  meet — it  had  not  assembled  as  yet.  Then 
had  I  arrived  in  time  ;  neither  white  savage  or  red  savage  had 
yet  come  into  possession — neither  had  dared  to  lay  hands  on 
the  coveted  and  priceless  gem. 

Isolina  was  still  safe — thus  singularly  preserved  from  brutal 
contact.  These  dogs  in  the  manger,  their  mutual  jealousy,  had 
proved  her  protection  !  I  was  consoled  by  the  thought — strange 
source  of  consolation  ! 

I  was  in  time,  but  where  was  she  ?  From  my  new  position, 
I  had  a  still  better  view  of  the  camp,  its  fires,  and  its  denizens 
— she  was  nowhere  to  be  seen  ! 

In  the  lodge  then — she  must  certainly  be  there — or — a  new 
thought  occurred  to  me — she  may  be  kept  apart  from  the  other 
captives  ? — in  the  copse — she  may  be  concealed  in  the  copse 
until  the  sentence  be  pronounced  ? 

This  last  conjecture  brought  along  with  it  hopes  and  resolves. 
[  determined  to  search  the  copse.  If  I  should  find  her  there 

ao 


458  THE    WAE-TBAIL. 

my  emprise  would  be  easy  indeed  ;  at  all  events,  easier  than  1 
hsd  anticipated.  Though  guarded  by  the  savages,  I  should 
rescue  her  from  their  grasp.  The  lives  of  six  men — perhaps 
twice  that  number — were  under  my  belt.  The  odds  of  unarmed 
numbers  would  be  nothing  against  the  deadly  bullets  of  my 
revolvers,  and  I  saw  that  most  of  the  savages  had  laid  aside 
their  weapons,  confident  in  the  security  of  their  camp. 

But  I  might  find  her  alone,  or  perhaps  with  a  single  jailor. 
The  meeting  of  the  council  favored  the  supposition.  The  men 
would  all  be  there — some  to  take  part,  others  interested  in 
the  result,  or  merely  from  curiosity  to  watch  the  proceedings. 
Yes,  all  of  them  would  have  an  interest  in  the  issue — too  surely, 
ull.  The  barbarous  custom  of  these  savage  brutes  at  that  mo 
ment  came  to  my  remembrance. 

I  stayed  no  longer  to  reflect,  but  gliding  into  the  grove,  corn- 
*»-*nced  my  search  for  the  captive. 

,  The  ground  was  favorable  to  my  progress.  There  was  not 
»auch  underwood,  and  the  trees  grew  thinly.  I  could  easily 
pass  amongst  them  without  the  necessity  of  crouching,  and 
without  making  noise.  The  silent  tread  of  the  moccasin  was  in 
my  favor,  as  also  the  dark  foliage  that  stretched  overhead,  hid 
ing  the  sky  from  my  view. 

The  chief  timber  of  the  copse  was  the  pecan-hickory — almost 
an  evergreen — and  the  trees  were  still  in  full  leaf,  only  here 
and  there,  where  the  trunks  stood  far  apart,  did  the  moonbeams 
strike  through  the  thick  foliage. 

The  surface  of  the  ground  was  shrouded  from  her  light,  and 
the  narrow  aisles  through  which  I  passed  were  as  dark  as  if  no 
moon  had  been  shining. 

There  was  still  light  enough  to  reveal  some  horrid  scenes. 
0  Heavens  I  my  heart  bleeds  at  the  remembrance. 

I  was  wrong  in  my  conjecture.  The  men  had  not  all  gone 
to  the  council  ;  the  captive  women  were  not  all  by  the  camp- 
fires.  I  beheld  passion  in  its  most  brutal  form — red  ruffians 


•••»•"  A   FKIENDLY    ENCOUNTEE.  45  U 

lolling  in.  the  bush  beside  their  helpless  victims— women — fair, 
white  women,  with  drooping  heads  and  listless  air,  wounded,  dis- 
shevelled,  weeping  !  O  Heaven  !  My  heart  recoils  at  the 
remembrance  ! 

It  recoiled  at  the  sight — it  burned  with  indignation.  At 
every  turn  did  it  prompt  me  to  draw  knife  or  pistol.  At  every 
step  my  fingers  itched  to  immolate  a  hideous  paint-besmeared 
brute — to  slay  a  "  noble  "  savage. 

I  was  restrained  only  by  my  own  desperate  situation — by  my 
apprehensions  for  the  safety  of  Isolina — now  more  acute  than 
ever.  What  horrid  imaginings  crowded  into  my  brain — begot  by 
the  barbarous  drama  that  was  being  enacted  around  me,  shame 
lessly  before  my  face — under  my  very  eyes. 

The  monsters  too  earnestly  occupied  with  their  coarse 
caresses,  took  no  heed  of  me  ;  and  I  passed  on  without  remark 
or  interruption. 

I  threaded  the  pathways  of  the  grove  one  after  another 
gliding  through  as  rapidly  as  the  path  would  permit.  I  entered 
every  aisle  and  glade.  I  searched  everywhere,  even  to  the 
farthest  limits  of  the  woods.  I  saw  more  men — more  weeping 
women — more  red  ruffianism.  I  saw  naught  of  her  for  whom 
I  searched. 

"  In  the  tent,  then — she  must  be  there." 

I  turned  my  face  towards  the  lodge,  and  moving  with  stealthy 
step,  soon  arrived  among  the  trees  that  stood  in  the  rear.  I 
halted  near  the  edge,  and  separating  the  leaves  with  my  hands 
peered  cautiously  through.  I  had  no  need  to  search  further. 
Isolina  was  before  ray  eyes. 


THE    WAR-TRAIL. 


CHAPTER 


A     SPY    IN    THE     COUNCIL. 

YES,  there  was  my  betrothed  —  within  sight,  within  hearing, 
almost  within  reach  of  my  hands;  and  I  dared  not  touch,  I 
dared  not  speak,  I  scarce  dared  look  upon  her.  My  fingers  trem 
bled  among  the  leaves;  my  heart  rose  and  fell;  I  could  feel 
within  my  breast  its  strokes  rapid  and  irregular;  I  could  hear 
its  sonorous  vibration. 

It  was  not  at  the  first  glance  I  saw  Isolina.  On  looking 
through  the  leaves  the  coup  d'ail  was  a  scene  that  quite  aston 
ished  me,  and  for  a  while  occupied  my  attention.  Siace  I  had 
last  gazed  upon  the  great  fire,  the  grouping  around  it  had 
undergone  an  entire  change.  A  new  tableau  was  presented, 
that  for  the  moment  held  me  under  a  spell  of  surprise. 

The  fire  no  longer  blazed,  or  only  slightly  and  when  stirred. 
The  logs  had  burned  into  coals,  and  now  yielded  a  fainter  light, 
but  one  more  red  and  garish.  It  was  steady  nevertheless,  arid 
the  position  of  the  pile  rendered  it  strong  enough  to  illumine 
the  camp  around  to  its  utmost  limits. 

The  fire  was  still  encircled  by  savages,  but  no  longer  stand 
ing  nor  grouped  irregularly,  as  I  had  before  observed  them. 
On  the  contrary,  they  were  seated,  or  rather  squatted,  at  equal 
distances  from  each  other,  and  forming  a  ring  that  girdled  the 
huge  mound  of  embers. 

There  were   about  twenty  of  these  men  —  I  did  not  count 


A   SPY    IN   THE   COUNCIL.  461 

them — but  I  observed  that  all  were  in  their  native  costume — 
leggings,  and  breech-cloth  to  the  waist,  nothing  above,  save  the 
armlets  and  shell  ornaments  of  the  nose,  ears  and  neck.  All 
were  profusely  painted  with  chalk,  ochre  and  vermilion.  Be 
yond  doubt  I  was  looking  upon  the  "  council." 

The  other  Indians — they  in  "  fancy  dresses  " — were  still  upon 
the  ground,  but  they  stood  behind,  retired  a  pace  or  two  from 
the  circle,  in  groups  of  two,  three  or  four,  talking  in  low  mutter- 
ings.  Others  were  moving  about,  still  at  a.  greater  distance 
from  the  fire. 

My  observation  of  all  these  features  of  the  scene,  did  not 
occupy  ten  seconds  of  time — -just  so  long  as  my  eyes  were  get 
ting  accustomed  to  the  light.  At  the  end  of  that  interval  my 
glance  rested  upon  Isolina,  and  there  became  fixed. 

In  the  chain  of  Indians  that  encircled  the  fire  there  was  a  break 
— an  interval  of  ten  or  a  dozen  feet.  It  was  directly  in  front  of  the 
lodge,  and  above  the  fire — for  the  ground  gently  sloped  from  the 
tent  towards  the  stream.  In  this  spot  the  captive  was  seated. 
Her  position  was  exactly  between  the  lodge  and  the  fire,  and  a 
little  retired  behind  the  circle  of  the  council.  The  tent  inter" 
vening  between  her  and  my  position  had  prevented  me  from 
seeing  her  at  first. 

She  was  half-seated,  half- reclining  upon  a  robe  of  wolf  skins. 
I  saw  that  her  arms  were  free.  I  saw  that  her  limbs  were  bound. 
Her  back  was  to  the  tent — her  face  turned  towards  the  council 
I  could  not  see  it. 

To  recognize  my  betrothed,  I  did  not  need  to  look  upon  her 
face.  Her  matchless  form,  outlined  against  the  red  embers,  was 
easily  identified.  The  full  round  curve  of  the  neck;  the  oval 
lines  of  the  head;  the  majestic  sweep  of  the  shoulders;  the  arms 
smooth  and  symmetrical;  all  these  were  familiar  to  my  eyes,  for 
oft  had  they  dwelt  on  them  in  admiration.  I  could  not  be  mis 
taken.  The  form  before  me  was  that  graven  upon  my  heart;  it 
was  Isolina's. 


£62  THE   WAK-TKAIL. 

There  was  another  salient  point  in  this  singular  tableau,  that 
would  nolj  escape  observation.  Beyond  the  fire,  and  directly 
opposite  to  where  Isolina  was  placed,  I  saw  another  well- 
known  object — the  white  steed  !  He  was  not  staked  there,  but 
haltered  and  held  in  hand  by  one  of  the  Indians.  He  must  have 
been  lately  brought  upon  the  ground;  for,  from  neither  of  my 
former  points  of  observation,  had  I  noted  him.  He,  like  his 
mistress,  was  to  be  put  on  trial — his  ownership  was  also  matter 
of  dispute. 

There  was  in  eight  one  more  object  that  interested  me.  Not 
with  friendly  interest  did  I  regard  it,  but  with  disgust  and 
indignation. 

Not  seated  in  the  council-ring,  not  standing  among  the  idle 
groups,  but  apart  from  all,  I  beheld  Hissoo-rozo,  the  renegade. 
Savage  as  were  the  red  warriors,  fiend-like  as  they  appeared 
with  their  paint-smeared  visages,  not  one  looked  so  savage  or 
fiend-like  as  he. 

The  features  of  this  man  were  naturally  bad;  but  the  paint — 
for  he  had  adopted  this  with  every  other  vile  custom  of  barba 
rian  life — rendered  their  expression  positively  ferocious.  The 
device  upon  his  forehead  was  a  death's  head  and  cross-bones, 
done  in  white  chalk,  and  upon  this  appeared  the  well  imitated 
semblance  of  a  bleedng  scalp — the  appropriate  symbols  of  a 
cruel  disposition. 

There  was  something  unnatural  in  a  white  skin  thus  disfigured 
— for  the  natural  complexion  was  not  hidden.  Here  and  there 
it  could  be  perceived  forming  the  ground  of  the  motley  elabora 
tion — its  pallid  hue  in  strange  contrast  with  the  deeper  colors 
that  daubed  it.  It  was  not  the  canvas  for  such  a  picture. 

Yet  there  the  picture  was  in  red  and  yellow,  black,  white  and 
blue;  there  stood  the  deep-dyed  villain. 

I  saw  not  his  rival.  I  looked  for  him,  but  saw  him  not. 
Perhaps  he  was  one  of  those  who  stood  around.  Perhaps  ho 
had  not  yet  come  up.  He  was  the  «on  of  the  great  chief — per- 


THE   COUNCIL    IN    SESSION.  46 & 

naps  he  was  inside  the  lodge.     The  last  was  the  most  probable 
conjecture. 

The  great  calumet  was  brought  forward,  and  lit  by  the  fire. 
It  was  passed  around  the  circle,  from  mouth  to  mouth,  each 
savage  satisfying  himself  with  a  single  draw  from  the  tube.  I 
knew  that  this  was  the  inauguration  of  the  council.  The  trial 
was  about  to  proceed. 


CHAPTER  XCV. 

THE     COUNCIL     IN      SESSION. 

THE  situation  into  which  I  had  chanced,  could  not  have  been 
better  had  I  deliberately  chosen  it.  I  had  under  my  eyes  the 
council-fire  and  council,  the  group  around — in  short,  the  whole 
area  of  the  camp. 

What  was  of  equal  importance,  I  could  see  without  being 
seen.  Along  the  edge  of  the  copse  there  extended  a  narrow 
belt  of  the  shadow,  similar  to  that  which  had  favored  me  while 
in  the  channel,  and  produced  by  a  like  cause,  for  the  stream  and 
the  selvedge  of  the  grove  were  parallel  to  each  other.  The  moon 
beams  fell  obliquely  upon  the  grove,  and  under  the  thick  foliage 
of  the  pecans  I  was  well  screened  from  her  light  behind,  while 
the  lodge  covered  me  from  the  glare  of  the  fire  in  front. 

I  could  not  have  been  better  placed  for  my  purpose.  I  saw 
the  advantage  of  the  position,  and  resolved,  therefore,  to  abide 
upon  it. 

The  observations  and  reflections  thus  given  in  detail  occupied 
me  but  a  few  minutes  of  time.  Thought  is  quick,  and  at  that 
crisis  mine  was  more  than  usually  on  the  alert.  Almost  instan 
taneously  did  I  perceive  the  points  that  most  interested  me, 
or  had  reference  to  my  plans — almost  instantaneously  I  had 


46*4  THE    WAK-TKAIL. 

mastered  the  situation,  and  I  next  bent  my  mind  upon  how  tc 
take  advantage  of  it. 

I  saw  there  was  but  one  way  to  proceed — my  original  scheme 
uust  be  carried  out ;  under  so  many  eyes,  there  was  not  the 
slightest  chance  that  the  captive  could  be  stolen  away — she 
must  be  taken  openly,  and  by  a  bold  stroke.  Of  this  was  I 
convinced. 

The  question  arose,  when  should  I  make  the  attempt  ?  At 
that  moment  ?  She  was  not  ten  paces  from  where  I  stood  ! 
Could  I  rush  forward,  and  with  my  knife  set  free  her  limbs  ? 
Might  we  then  get  off  before  the  savages  could  fling  themselves 
upon  IK  ? 

Hopeless — impossible.  She  was  too  near  them — she  was  too 
near  the  renegade  who  claimed  her  as  his  property.  He  was 
standing  almost  over  her — within  the  distance  of  a  single  leap. 
In  his  belt  was  the  long  triangular  blade,  the  Spanish  knife 
He  could  cut  me  down  ere  I  could  have  severed  a  cord  of  her 
fastenings.  The  attempt  would  fail.  Success  was  hopeless — 
impossible.  I  must  wait  for  a  better  opportunity,  and  I  waited, 

I  remembered  Rube's  last  word  of  counsel,  not  to  act  too 
hastily ;  and  his  reasons,  that  if  I  must  make  a  "  desprit  strike 
fur  it,"  to  leave  the  grand  coup  to  the  last  moment.  The  circum 
stances  could  be  no  worse  then  than  now. 

Under  the  influence  of  this  idea  I  checked  my  impatience,  and 
waited. 

I  watched  Hissoo-rozo — I  watched  the  squatted  forms  around 
the  fire — I  watched  straggling  groups  behind  them — in  turns  my 
eyes  wandered  from  one  to  the  other. 

At  intervals  they  rested  upon  Isolina. 

Up  to  this  moment,  I  had  not  seen  her  countenance.  1  saw 
only  the  reverse  of  that  beautiful  image  so  deeply  graven  upon 
my  heart.  But  even  then,  under  that  suspense  of  peril,  strange 
thoughts  were  passing  within  me.  I  felt  a  singular  longing 
to  look  upon  her  face.  I  remembered  the  herredero. 


THE   COUNCIL   IN    SESSION.  465 

It  pleased  fortune  to  smile  upon  me.  So  manyli:tle  Incidents 
were  occurring  in  my  favor,  that  I  began  to  believe  the  fates 
propitious,  and  my  hopes  of  success  were  growing  stronger 
apace.  Just  then,  the  captive  turned  her  head,  and  her  face 
was  towards  me. 

There  was  no  mark  on  that  fair  brow — that  soft  cheek  was 
without  a  scar — the  delicate  skin  was  intact,  smooth  and 
diaphanous  as  ever.  The  herredero  had  been  merciful  ! 

Perhaps  something  had  occurred  to  interrupt  or  hinder  him 
from  his  horrid  work  ?  Would  that  the  matador  had  met  with 
a  similar  interruption  !  I  could  not  tell — those  profuse  clusters 
covered  all — neck,  bosom  and  shoulders  were  hidden  under  the 
dark  dishevelment. 

I  could  not  tell,  but  I  did  not  dare  to  hope.  Cyprio  had 
seen  the  blood  !  It  was  but  a  momentary  glance,  and  her  face 
was  again  turned  away.  At  intervals  she  repeated  it,  and  I  saw 
that  she  looked  in  other  directions.  I  could  note  the  uneasiness 
of  her  manner.  I  could  tell  why  those  glances  were  given.  I 
knew  her  design.  Oh,  for  one  word  in  her  hearing — one  whisper  ! 

It  might  not  be — she  was  too  closely  watched.  Jealous  eyes 
were  upon  her — savage  hearts  were  gloating  over  her  beauty. 
No  word  could  have  reached  her  that  would  not  have  been 
heard  by  others — by  all  around  the  fire — for  the  silence  was 
profound.  The  "  council "  had  not  yet  essayed  to  speak. 

The  stillness  was  at  length  broken  by  the  voice  of  a  crier, 
who  in  a  shrill  tone  proclaimed  that  the  "  council  was  in 
session." 

There  was  something  so  ceremonious  in  the  whole  proceedings, 
jind  every  movement  was  made  with  such  regularity,  that  but 
for  the  open  air,  the  fire,  the  wild  savage  costumes  and  fierce 
painted  faces,  I  might  have  fancied  myself  in  the  presence  of  a 
civilized  court,  and  witnessing  a  trial  by  jury.  It  was,  in  effect, 
just  such  a  trial,  though  judge  there  was  none.  The  members 
of  the  jury  were  themselves  the  judges,  for  in  the  simplicity  of 

20* 


466  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

such  primitive  litigation,  each  was  presumed  to  understand  the 
law  without  an  interpreter.  Pleaders,  too,  were  equally  absent. 
Each  party — plaintiff  and  defendant — was  expected  to  plead  his 
own  case.  Such  is  the  simple  fashion  in  the  high  court  of 
the  prairies — a  fashion  which  might  elsewhere  be  adopted  with 
advantage. 

The  name  of  Hissoo-rozo  pealed  loud  upon  the  air.  The  crier 
was  calling  him  into  court — another  parallel  with  the  customs  of 
civilization. 

Three  times  the  name  was  pronounced,  at  each  repetition  in  a 
shriller  and  louder  tone  than  before. 

The  man  might  have  spared  his  voice.  He  who  was  sum 
moned  was  upon  the  spot,  and  ready  to  answer.  Before  the 
echo  died  away,  the  renegade  uttered  a  loud  response,  and 
stepping  to  an  open  space  within  the  ring,  halted,  drew  himself 
up  to  his  full  height,  folded  his  arms,  and  in  this  attitude  stood 
waiting. 

At  this  crisis,  the  thought  occurred  to  me,  whether  1  should 
rush  forward,  and  at  once  decide  the  fate  of  myself  and  my 
betrothed.  The  seated  warriors  appeared  to  be  all  unarmed  ; 
and  the  renegade,  whose  hand  I  most  regarded,  was  now  further 
off,  having  gone  round  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  fire.  The 
situation  was  more  favorable,  and  for  the  moment  I  stood  bend 
ing  upon  the  spring.  But  my  eye  fell  upon  the  spectators  in  the 
back-ground.  Many  of  them  were  directly  in  the  way  I  should 
have  to  take.  I  saw  that  many  of  them  carried  weapons,  either 
in  their  hands  or  upon  their  persons,  and  that  Hissoo-rozo  him 
self  was  still  too  near. 

I  could  never  fight  my  way  against  such  odds.  I  could  not 
break  such  a  line.  It  would  be  madness  to  attempt  it.  Rube's 
counsel  was  ringing  in  my  ears ;  and  once  more  I  atandoued  the 
rash  design. 


THE   RENEGADE   CLAIMS   HIS   CAPTIVES.  467 


CHAPTER    X3VI. 

THE    RENEGADE    CLAIMS    HIS    CAPTIVES. 

THERE  was  an  interval  of  silence — a  dramatic  pause — that 
lasted  for  more  than  a  minute.  It  was  ended  by  one  of  the 
council  rising  to  his  feet,  and,  by  a  gesture,  inviting  Hissoo-rozo 
to  speak. 

The  renegade  began  : 

"  Red  warriors  of  the  Hietan  !  Brothers  !  What  I  have  to 
say  before  the  council  will  not  require  many  words.  I  claim 
yonder  Mexican  girl  as  my  captive,  and  therefore  as  my  own. 
Who  denies  my  right  ?  I  claim  the  white  horse  as  mine — my 
prize,  fairly  taken." 

The  speaker  paused,  as  if  to  wait  for  further  commands  from 
the  council. 

"  Hissoo-rozo  has  spoken  his  claim  to  the  Mexican  maiden 
and  the  white  steed.  He  has  not  said  upon  what  right  he  rests 
it.  Let  him  declare  his  right  in  presence  of  the  council  !" 

This  was  said  by  the  same  Indian  who  had  made  the  gesture, 
and  who  appeared  to  direct  the  proceedings.  He  was  not  act 
ing  by  any  superior  authority  which  he  may  have  possessed,  but 
merely  by  reason  of  his  being  the  oldest  of  the  party.  Among 
the  Indians,  age  gives  precedence. 

"Brothers  !"  said  Hissoo-rozo,  m  obedience  to  the  command, 
"my  claim  is  just.  Of  that  you  are  to  be  the  judges.  1  knour 
your  true  hearts — you  will  not  shut  them  against  justice.  I 
need  not  read  to  you  your  own  law,  that  he  who  makes  a  cap 
tive  has  the  right  to  keep  it— to  do,  with  it  as  te  will.  This  is 
the  law  of  your  tribe — of  my  tribe  as  well ;  for  yours  is  mine.* 


THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

Gusts  of  approbation  caused  a  momentary  interruption  in  the 
speech. 

"  Hietaus  I"  resumed  the  speaker,  "  my  skin  is  while,  but  my 
heart  is  the  color  of  your  own.  You  did  me  the  honor  to  adopt 
me  into  your  nation.  You  honored  me,  by  making  me  first  a  war 
rior,  and  afterwards  a  war-chief.  Have  I  ever  given  you  cause 
to  regret  what  yon  have  done  ?  Have  I  betrayed  your  trust  TJ 

A  volley  of  exclamations  indicated  a  response  in  the  negative. 

"  I  have  confidence,  then,  in  your  love  of  justice  and  truth.  I 
have  no  fear  that  the  color  of  my  skin  will  blind  your  eyes  ;  for 
you  all  know  the  color  of  my  heart." 

Fresh  gusts  of  approbation  followed  this  adroit  stroke. 

"  Then,  brothers,  listen  to  my  cause  !  I  claim  the  maiden 
and. the  horse.  I  need  not  tell  where  they  were  found  and  how, 
Your  own  eyes  were  witness  of  their  capture.  There  has  been 
talk  of  a  doubt  as  to  who  made  it ;  for  many  horsemen  were  in 
the  pursuit.  I  deny  that  there  is  any  doubt.  My  lazo  was  first 
over  the  head  of  the  horse — was  first  tightened  around  his 
throat — first  brought  him  to  a  stand.  To  take  the  horse  was 
to  take  the  rider.  It  was  my  deed — both  are  my  captives.  I 
claim  both  as  my  property.  Who  is  he  that  disputes  my  claim  ? 
Let  him  stand  forth  I" 

Having  delivered  this  challenge  with  a  defiant  emphasis,  the 
speaker  fell  back  into  his  former  attitude  ;  and  once  more  fold 
ing  his  arms,  remained  silent  and  immobile. 

Another  pause  followed,  which  was  again  terminated  by  a 
sign  from  the  old  warrior  who  had  first  spoken".  His  gesture 
was  directed  to  the  crier,  who,  the  moment  after,  raising  his 
loud,  shrill  voice,  called  out : 

"Wakotio!" 

The  name  caused  me  to  start  as  if  struck  by  an  arrow.  It 
was  my  own  appellation.  I  was  Wakono  ! 

It  was  pronounced  thrice — each  time  louder  than  the  pre 
ceding— 


THE    JKENEGADE    CLAIMS    HIS    CAPTIVES.  469 

"  Wakono  !    Wakono  !   Wakono  !" 

A  light  flashed  upon  me.  Wakono  was  the  rival  cl&ULant. 
He  whose  breech-cloth  was  around  my  hips,  whose  robe  hung 
from  my  shoulders,  whose  plumed  bonnet  adorned  my  head, 
whose  pigments  disfigured  my  face — he  of  the  red  hand  upon 
his  breast,  and  the  cross  upon  his  brow — was  no  other  than 
Wakono ! 

I  cannot  describe  the  singular  sensation  I  felt  at  the  discovery. 
I  was  in  a  perilous  position,  indeed.  My  fingers  trembled  among 
the  leaves.  I  released  the  branchlets,  and  let  them  close  up 
before  my  face.  I  dared  not  trust  myself  to  look  forth. 

For  some  moments  I  stood  still  and  silent,  but  not  without 
trembling.  I  could  not  steady  my  nerves  under  such  a  dread 
agitation. 

I  listened,  but  looked  not.  There  was  an  interval  of  breath 
less  silence.  No  one  seemed  to  stir  or  speak.  They  were 
waiting  the  effect  of  the  summons. 

Once  more  the  voice  of  the  crier  was  heard,  pronouncing  in 
triple  repetition — 

" Wakono!    Wakono!   Wakono!" 

Again  followed  an  interval  of  silence  ;  but  I  could  hear  low 
mutterings  of  surprise  and  disappointment,  as  soon  as  it  was  per 
ceived  that  the  Indian  did  not  answer  to  his  name. 

I  alone  knew  the  reason  of  his  demissness.  I  knew  that' 
Wakono  could  not — the  true  Wakouo  ;  that  his  counterfeit 
would  not  come. 

Though  I  had  undertaken  to  personate  the  savage  chieftain, 
for  this  act  in  the  drama  I  was  not  prepared.  The  stage  must 
wait. 

Even  at  that  moment  I  was  sensible  of  the  ludicrousness  of 
,  the  situation.  So  extreme  was  it,  that  even  at  that  moment,  of 
direst  peril  I  felt  a  half  inclination  for  laughter  !  But  the  feel 
ing  was  easily  checked  ;  and  once  more  parting  the  branches,  I 
ventured  to  look  forth. 


3:70  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

I  saw  there  was  some  confusion.  Wakono  had  been  reported 
"  missing."  The  members  of  the  council  still  preserved  both 
their  seats  and  stoical  composure,  but  the  younger  warriors 
behind  were  uttering  harsh  ejaculations,  and  moving  about  from 
place  to  place,  with  that  restless  air  that  betokens  at  once  sur 
prise  and  disappointment. 

At  this  crisis,  an  Indian  was  seen  emerging  from  the  tent. 
He  was  a  man  of  somewhat  venerable  aspect,  though  venerable 
more  from  age  than  any  positive  expression  of  virtue.  His 
cheeks  were  furrowed  by  time,  and  his  hair  white  as  bleached 
flax — a  rare  sight  among  Indians. 

There  was  something  about  this  individual  that  bespoke  him 
a  person  of  authority.  Wakono  was  the  son  of  a  chief — the 
chief,  then,  should  be  an  old  man.  This  must  be  he  ? 

I  had  no  doubt  of  it,  and  my  conjecture  proved  to  be  correct. 

The  white-haired  Indian  stepped  forward  to  the  edge  of  the 
ring,  and  with  a  waive  of  his  hand  commanded  silence. 

He  was  instantly  obeyed.  Murmurings  ceased,  and  all  placed 
themselves  in  fixed  attitudes  to  listen. 


CHAPTER    XCYI1. 

SPEECHES      IN      COUNCIL. 

"  HIETANS  !  began  the  chief,  for  such  in  reality  was  the  old 
Indian.  My  children,  and  brothers  in  council  !  I  appeal  to 
you  to  stay  judgment  in  this  matter.  I  am  your  chief,  but  I 
claim  no  consideration  for  that.  Wakono  is  my  son,  but  for  him 
I  ask  no  favor.  I  but  demand  justice  and  right — such  as  would 
be  given  to  the  humblest  in  our  tribe.  I  ask  no  more  for  my 
son  Wakono.  Wakono  is  a  brave  warrior — who  among  you 
does  not  know  it  ?  His  shield  is  garnished  with  many  trophies 


SPEECHES   IN   COUNCIL.  471 

taken  from  the  hated  pale  face — his  leggings  are  fringed  with 
scalps  of  the  Utah  and  Cheyenne — at  his  heels  drag  the  long 
locks  of  the  Pawnee  and  Arapaho.  Who  will  deny  that  Wa- 
koiio — my  son  Wakono  is  a  brave  warrior  ? 

A  murmur  of  assent  was 'the  response  to  the  paternal  ap 
peal. 

"  The  Spanish  Wolf,  too,  is  a  warrior — a  brave  warrior.  1 
deny  it  not.  He  is  stout  of  heart  and  strong  of  arm.  He  has 
taken  rcany  scalps  from  the  enemy  of  the  Hietan.  I  honor  him 
for  his  achievements  ;  who  among  us  does  not  ?" 

A  general  chorus  of  grunts  and  ether  ejaculation's,  from  both 
council  and  spectators,  responded  to  this  interrogatory. 

The  response,  both  in  tone  and  manner,  was  strongly  in  the 
affirmative  :  and  I  could  tell  by  this,  that  the  renegade  was  the 
favorite. 

The  old  chief  also  perceived  that  such  was  the  prevailing  sen 
timent,  and  despite  his  pretensions  to  fair  play,  he  was  evidently 
a  little  nettled  at  the  reply.  The  father  of  Wakono  was  un 
doubtedly  no  Brutus. 

After  a  momentary  pause,  he  resumed  speech,  but  in  a  tone 
entirely  altered.  He  was  now  painting  the  reverse  side  of 
Hissoo-rozo's  portrait,  and  as  he  threw  in  the  darker  touches,  it 
was  with  evident  pique  and  hostility. 

"  I  honor  the  Spanish  Wolf,"  he  continued,  "  I  honor  him  for 
bis  strong  arm  and  his  stout  heart.  I  have  said  so  ;  but  hear 
me,  Hietans — hear  me  children  and  brothers  !  there  are  two  of 
every  kind — there  is  a  night  and  a  day — a  winter  and  a  sum 
mer — a  green  prairie  and  a  desert  plain,  and  like  these  is  the 
tongue  of  Hissoo-rozo.  It  speaks  two  ways,  that  differ  as  light 
from  the  darkness — at  is  double — it  forks  like  the  tongue  of  the 
rattle  serpent — it  is  not  to  be  believed ." 

The  chief  ceased  speaking,  and  the  Spanish  Wolf  was  per 
mitted  to  make  reply.  He  did  not  attempt  to  defend  himself 
from  the  charge  of  the  "  double  tongue."  Perhaps  he  kne\f 


472  THE   WAR-TEAIL. 

that  the  accusation  was  just  enough,  and  he  ha!  no  reason  to 
tremble  for  h*s  popularity  on  that  score.  He  must  have  been  a 
great  liar  indeed  to  have  excelled,  or  even  equalled  the  most 
ordinary  story-teller  in  the  Comanche  nation,  for  the  menda 
city  of  these  Indians  .would  have  been  a  match  for  Sparta 
herself. 

The  renegade  did  not  even  deny  the  assertion.  He  seemed 
to  be  confident  in  his  case.  He  simply  replied. 

"  If  the  tongue  of  Hissoo-rozo  is  double,  let  not  the  council 
rely  upon  his  word.  Let  witnesses  be  called — there  are  many 
who  are  ready  to  testify  to  the  truth  of  what  Hissoo-rozo  has 
spoken." 

"  First  hear  Wakono  ! — let  Wakono  be  heard  ! — where  is 
Wakono  ?" 

These  demands  were  made  by  warriors,  members  of  the  coun 
cil,  who  spoke  almost  simultaneously. 

"  Once  more  the  crier's  voice  was  heard  calling  "  Wakono  !" 

"Brothers!"  again  spoke  the  chief,  "it  is  for  this  that  I 
would  stay  your  judgment.  My  son  is  not  here— he  went  back 
upon  the  trail  ;  a,nd  has  not  returned.  I  know  not  his  purpose. 
My  heart  is  in  doubt,  but  not  in  fear.  Wakono  is  a  strong 
warrior,  and  can  take  care  of  himself.  He  will  not  be  long  ab 
sent.  He  must  soon  return.  For  this  I  ask  you  to  delay  the 
judgment." 

A  murmur  of  disapprobation  followed  this  avowal.  The  allies 
of  the  Spanish  Wolf  evidently  mustered  stronger  than  the  friends 
of  the  young  chief.  The  renegade  once  more  addressed  the 
council. 

"  What  trifling  would  this  be,  warriors  of  the  Hietan  ?  Two 
suns  have  gone  down,  and  this  question  is  not  decided  1  I  ask 
only  justice.  By  our  laws  the  judgment  cannot  stand  over. 
The  captives  must  belong  to  some  one.  I  claim  them  as  mine, 
and  I  offer  witnesses  to  prove  my  right.  Wakono  has 
else  why  is  he  not  here  to  avow  it.  He  has  no  proofs  but 


SPEECHES   IN   COUNCIL.  473 

own  word — he  is  ashamed  to  stand  before  you  without  proof — • 
that  is  why  he  is  now  absent  from  the  camp." 

This  announcement  produced  a  sensation,  and  I  could  per 
ceive  that  the  old  chief  partook  equally  with  the  others  of  the 
suspicion  thus  created. 

"  Who  says  Wakono  is  in  the  camp?"  inquired  he,  in  a  loud 
voice. 

An  Indian  stepped  forth  from  the  crowd  of  spectators.  I  re 
cognized  the  man  whom  I  had  met  crossing  from  the  horse 
guard. 

"  Wakono  is  in  the  camp,"  repeated  he,  as  he  paused  outside 
the  circle.  "  I  saw  the  young  chief.  I  spake  with  him." 

"  Where  ?" 

"  Only  now." 

"  Where  ?" 

The  man  pointed  to  the  scene  of  our  accidental  rencontre. 

44  He  was  going  yonder,"  said  he,  "  he  went  among  the  trees 
— I  saw  him  no  more." 

This  intelligence  evidently  increased  the  astonishment  of  all. 
They  could  not  comprehend  why  Wakono  should  be  upon  the 
ground,  and  yet  not  come  forward  to  assert  his  claim.  Had  he 
abandoned  it  altogether  ? 

The  father  of  the  claimant  appeared  as  much  puzzled  as  any 
one.  He  made  no  attempt  to  explain  the  absence  of  his  son. 
He  could  not.  He  stood  silent,  and  evidently  in  a  state  of  mys 
tification. 

Several  now  suggested  that  a  search  be  made  for  the  absent 
warrior.  It  was  proposed  to  send  messengers  throughout  the 
camp — to  search  the  grove. 

My  blood  ran  cold  as  I  listened  to  the  proposal,  my  knees 
trembled  beneath  me.  I  knew  that  if  the  grove  should  be 
searched,  I  would  have  no  chance  of  remaining  longer  concealed. 
The  Iress  of  Wakono  was  conspicuous — I  saw  that  there  was 
none  other  "ike  it — no  other  wore  a  rrbe  of  jaguar  skins,  and 


474:  THE    WAB-TKAIL. 

this  would  betray  me.  Even  the  paint  could  not  avail,  I  should 
be  led  into  the  firelight.  The  counterfeit  would  be  easily  de 
tected.  I  should  be  butchered  upon  the  spot — perhaps  tortured 
for  my  treatment  of  the  true  Wakono,  which  would  soon  become 
known. 

My  apprehensions  had  reached  the  climax  of  acuteness,  when 
they  were  suddenly  relieved  by  some  words  from  the  Spanish 
Wolf. 

"  Why  search  for  Wakono  ?"  cried  he,  "  Wakono  knows  his 
own  name  ?  it  has  been  called,  and  loud  enough.  Wakono  has 
ears — surely  he  can  hear  for  himself ;  if  he  is  in  the  camp.  Call 
him  again,  if  you  will  !" 

TBis  proposition  appeared  reasonable.  It  was  adopted,  and 
the  crier  once  more  summoned  the  young  chief  by  name. 

The  voice,  as  all  perceived,  could  have  been  heard  to  the  far 
thest  bounds  of  the  camp,  and  far  beyond. 

An  interval  was  allowed,  during  which  there  reigned  perfect 
silence,  every  one  bending  his  ear  to  listen.  There  came  no 
answer — no  Wakono  appeared  to  the  summons, 

"  Now,"  triumphantly  exclaimed  the  renegade,  "  is  it  not  as  1 
said  ?  Warriors  I  I  demand  your  judgment." 

There  was  no  immediate  reply.  A  long  pause  followed,  dur 
ing  which  no  one  spoke — either  in  the  circle,  or  among  the 
spectators. 

At  length  the  oldest  of  the  council  rose — relit  the  calumet, 
and  after  taking  a  whiff  from  the  tube,  handed  it  to  the  Indian 
seated  on  his  left,  This  one  in  like  manner  passed  it  to  the  next 
and  he  to  the  next,  until  the  pipe  had  made  the  circuit  of  tht 
fire,  and  was  returned  to  the  old  warrior  who  had  first  smoked 
from  it.  The  latter  now  laid  aside  the  pipe,  and  in  a  formal 
manner,  but  in  a  voice  inaudible  to  the  spectators,  proposed  the 
question.  The  vote  was  taken  in  rotation,  and  was  also  de 
livered  sotto  voce.  The  judgment  only  was  pronounced  aloud. 

The  decinion  was  singular,  and  somewhat  unexpected.     The 


A   ROUGH   COURTSHIP.  4-J6 

jury  had  been  moved  by  a  strong  bearing  towards  equity,  and 
an  amicable  adjustment,  that  might  prove  acceptable  to  all 
parties. 

The  horse  was  adjudged  to  Wakono — the  maiden  was  declared 
the  property  of  the  Spanish  Wolf  ! 


CHAPTER  XCYIII. 

A    ROUGH    COURTSHIP. 

THE  decision  appeared  to  give  satisfaction  to  all.  A  grim 
amile  upon  his  face-  testified  that  the  renegade  himself  was 
pleased.  How  could  he  be  otherwise  ?  He  had  certainly  the 
best  of  the  suit,  for  what  was  a  beautiful  horse  to  a  beautiful 
woman,  and  such  a  woman  ? 

Even  the  white  haired  chief  seemed  satisfied — perhaps,  of  the 
two  the  old  savage  jockey  preferred  the  horse  ?  It  migh!  have 
been  different  had  Wakono  been  upon  the  ground.  I  was 
much  mistaken  if  he  would  so  tamely  have  acquiesced  in  the 
decision. 

Yes,  the  renegade  was  satisfied — more  than  that,  he  was 
rejoiced.  His  bearing  bespoke  his  consciousness  of  the  posses 
sion  of  a  rare  and  much  coveted  thing.  He  was  unable  to  con 
ceal  the  gratification  he  felt,  and  with  an  air  of  triumph  and 
exultation  he  approached  the  spot  where  the  captive  sat. 

As  soon  as  the  sentence  was  pronounced  the  Indians,  who 
had  been  seated,  rose  to  their  feet.  The  council  was  dismissed. 
Some  of  the  members  strolled  off  on  their  own  business,  others 
remained  by  the  great  fire,  mixing  among  their  comrades,  nc 
longer  with  the  solemn  gravity  of  councillors,  but  chatting, 
laughing,  shouting,  and  gesticulating  as  glibly  and  gaily  as  if 
thev  had  been  so  many  French  dancing  masters. 


THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

The  trial  and  its  objects  appeared  to  IK?  at  once  forgot  tea. 
Neither  plaintiff,  defendant,  nor  cause  seemed  any  longer  to 
tfccupy  the  thoughts  of  any  one.  The  horse  had  been  delivered 
to  a  friend  of  Wakono  ;  the  maiden  to  Hissoo-rozo,  and  the 
thing  was  settled  and  over. 

Perhaps,  here  and  there  some  young  brave,  with  a  pain  in 
his  heart,  may  have  bent  wistful  glances  upon  the  lovely  cap 
tive.  No  doubt,  there  were  many  who  looked  with  envious 
thoughts  upon  his  Hissoo-rozo  and  his  fortunes. 

After  the  council  was  over  no  one  interfered — no  one  seem 
ingly  took  any  interest  either  in  the  renegade  or  his  pale-faced 
squaw.  They  were  left  to  themselves. 

And  to  me.  From  that  moment  my  eyes  and  thoughts 
rested  only  on  them.  I  saw  no  one  else.  I  thought  of  nothing 
else.  I  watched  but  the  "wolf"  and  his  victim. 

The  old  chief  had  returned  into  the  tent.  Isolina  had  been 
left  alone. 

Only  a  moment  alone.  Had  it  been  otherwise,  I  should  have 
sprung  forward.  My  finger  had  moved  mechanically  towards 
my  knife  ;  but  there  was  not  time.  In  the  next  instant  Hissoo- 
rozo  stood  beside  her.  He  addressed  her  in  Spanish — he  did 
not  desire  the  others  to  understand  what  he  said.  Speaking  in 
this  language  there  would  be  less  danger. 

There  was  one.  who  listened  to  every  word.  I  listened  ;  uof 
a  syllable  escaped. 

"  Now  I"  began  he,  in  an  exulting  tone.  "  Now,  Dona 
Isoliua  de  Yargas  !  You  have  heard  ?  I  know  you  understand 
the  tongue  in  which  the  council  has  spoken — your  native  tongtw 
— ba  !  ha  !  ha  !" 

The  brute  was  jeering  her. 

"  Yon  are  mine — soul  and  body  mine — you  have  heard  ?" 
I  have  heard,"  was  the  reply,  in  a  tone  of  resignation  ! 

"  And  surely  you  are  satisfied,  are  you  not  ?  You  should 
De  j  I  am  white  as  yourself ;  I  have  saved  you  from  the 


A   BOUGH    COURTSHIP.  477 

embrace  of  a  red  Indian.  Surely  you  are  satisfied  with  the 
judgment  ?" 

"  I  am  satisfied." 

This  was  uttered  in  the  same  tone  of  resignation.  The 
answer  somewhat  surprised  me. 

"  'Tis  a  lie  !"  responded  the  brutal  monster.  "  You  are  play 
ing  false  with  me,  sweet  senorita.  But  yesterday  you  spoke 
words  of  scorn — you  would  scorn  me  still  ?" 

"  I  have  no  power  to  scorn  you.     I  am  your  captive." 

"  Carrambo  1  you  speak  truth.  You  have  no  power  either 
to  scorn  or  refuse  me — ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  And  as  little  do  I  care 
if  you  did.  You  may  like  me  or  not  at  your  pleasure.  Per 
haps,  you  will  take  to  me  in  time,  as  much  as  I  may  wish  it  ; 
bat  that  will  be  for  your  consideration,  sweet  senorita  !  Mean- 
vvhile,  you  are  mine — body  and  soul  you  are  mine — and  I  mean 
to  treat  you  after  my  own  fashion." 

The  coarse  vaunt  caused  my  blood — already  hot  enough — to 
boil  within  my  viens.  I  grasped  the  haft  of  my  knife,  and,  like 
a  tiger,  stood  cowering  upon  the  spring.  My  intent  was  first  to 
cut  down  the  ruffian,  and  then  set  free  the  limbs  of  the  captive 
with  the  blood-stained  blade. 

The  chances  were  still  against  me.  A  score  of  savages  were 
yet  around  the  fire.  Even  should  he  fall  at  the  first  blow,  I 
could  not  hope  to  get  clear. 

But  I  could  bear  it  no  longer,  and  would  have  risked  the 
chances  at  that  moment  had  not  my  foot  been  stayed  by  some 
words  that  followed. 

"  Come  !"  exclaimed  the  renegade,  speaking  to  his  victim^ 
and  making  sign  for  her  to  follow  him.  "  Come,  sweet  seno 
rita  !  This  place  is  too  public  for  man  and  wife.  I  would 
talk  with  you  elsewhere — I  know  where  there  are  softer  spots 
for  that  fair  form  to  recline  upon — \  retty  glades,  and  arbors, 
choice  retreats  within  the  shadow  of  the  grove.  There,  dear 
est,  shall  we  retire.  Vamos  '" ' 


4-78  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

Though  hideous  the  signification  of  the  mock  poetic  speech,  1 
joyed  at  hearing  it.  It  arrested  my  hand  and  limb,  both  of 
which  were  ready  for  action.  It  promised  a  better  opportunity. 
With  an  effort,  therefore,  I  restrained  myself,  and  resolved  to 
wait.  I  listened  for  the  reply  of  Isolina.  I  watched  her  as 
well.  I  noted  her  every  movement.  I  saw  that  she  pointed  to 
her  limbs — to  the  thong  fastenings  around  her  ankles. 

"  How  can  I  follow  you  ?"  she  inquired,  in  a  calm  voice,  and 
in  a  tone  of  surprise.  Surely  that  tone  was  feigned  ?  Surely 
she  meditated  some  design  ? 

"  True,"  said  the  man,  turning  back  and  drawing  the  knife 
from  his  belt.  "  Carrambo  !  I  had  not  thought  of  that,  but  we 
shall  soon  " 

He  did  not  finish  the  sentence.  He  stopped  in  the  middle  of 
it,  and  in  an  attitude  that  betokened  hesitation.  In  this  atti 
tude  he  remained  awhile,  gazing  into  the  eyes  of  his  victim. 
Then,  as  if  suddenly  changing  his  mind,  he  stuck  the  knife  back 
into  its  sheath,  and  at  the  same  time  cried  out  : 

"  By  the  Yirgin  !  I  will  not  trust  you.  You  are  too  free  of 
limb,  sweet  Margariti !  You  might  try  to  give  me  the  slip. 
This  is  a  better  plan.  Come  !  raise  yourself  up  !  a  little 
higher — so — now  we  go  !  Now  for  the  grove — vamos  ."' 

While  delivering  the  last  words,  the  ruffian  bent  himself 
over  the  half-prostrate  captive,  and  placing  his  arm  underneath, 
wound  it  around  her  waist.  He  then  raised  her  upward  until 
her  bosom  rested  upon  his — the  bosom  of  my  betrothed  iu 
juxtaposition  with  the  painted  breast  of  this  worse  than 
savage  I 

I  saw  it,  and  slew  him  not.  I  saw  it,  and  kept  cool.  I  can 
scarce  tell  why,  for  it  is  not  a  characteristic  of  my  nature.  My 
nerves,  from  being  so  much  played  upon  during  the  preceding 
hours,  had  acquired  the  firmness  of  steel,  perhaps,  enabled  me 
to  endure  the  sight — this  combined  with  the  almost  certain 
prospect  of  an  improved  opportunity. 


THE   CRISIS. 


479 


At  all  events,  I  kept  cool,  and  remained  in  my  place,  tnough 
only  for  a  moment  longer. 


CHAPTER    XCIX. 

THE   CRISIS. 

TBB  vraK^jpcte  having  raised  the  unresisting  captive  in  his  arms, 
proe&fti&sd  to  carry  her  away  from  the  spot.  He  scarce  carried 
bcp.  Her  feet,  naked  and  bound,  were  trailing  upon  the  grass, 
both  together. 

He  passed  the  lodge,  and  was  going  toward  the  copse,  in  an 
oblique  direction.  The  savages  who  saw  him  only  shouted,  and 
laughed. 

I  waited  neither  to  see  or  hear  more.  Still  keeping  within 
the  timber,  I  glided  along  its  edge.  With  quick  but  noiseless 
step  I  went,  making  for  the  same  point  towards  which  the  ruf 
fian  ravish er  was  tending. 

I  arrived  first,  and  stooping  under  the  shadow  of  the  trees, 
•waited  with  knife  in  hand,  firm  grasped  and  ready. 

His  burden  had  delayed  him.  He  had  stopped  midway  to 
rest,  and  was  now  standing  scarce  ten  paces  from  the  edge  of 
the  grove,  with  his  victim  still  in  his  arms,  and  apparently  lean 
ing  against  him. 

There  was  a  momentary  wavering  in  my  mind  as  to  whether 
I  should  not  then  rush  forth,  and  strike  the  coup.  The  chance 
seemed  as  good  as  I  might  have. 

.  I  was  about  deciding  in  the  affirmative,  when  I  saw  Hissoo- 
ro/o  had  again  taken  up  his  burden,  and  was  moving  towards 
me.  He  was  making  directly  for  the  spot  where  I  stood.  The 
crisis  was  near  1 

It  was  even  nearer  than  I  thought.     The  man  had  scarce 


430  THE   WAR-TRAIL. 

made  three  stops  from  the  point  of  rest,  when  I  saw  him  stum 
ble  and  fall  to  the  earth,  carrying  the  captive  along  with 
him  I 

The  fall  appeared  accidental — I  might  have  deemed  it  so,  but 
for  the  wild  shout  with  which  it  was  accompanied.  Something 
more  than  a  mere  stumble  elicited  that  fearful  cry  1 

There  was  a  short  struggle  upon  the  ground — the  bodies  be 
came  separated — one  was  seen  to  spring  suddenly  back.  I  saw 
it  was  Isolina  !  There  was  something  in  her  hand — both  moon 
light  arid  firelight  gleamed  upon  a  crimsoned  bladu  ;  sbe  ufao 
grasped  it  bent  for  an  instant  downward — the  keen  edge  sever^ed 
the  thongs  from  her  limbs,  and  the  moment  after  she  was  nm- 
ning  in  full  flight  across  the  level  sward  of  the  camp-ground. 

Without  reflection  I  sprang  out  of  the  covert  and  rushed 
after.  I  passed  the  renegade  who  had  half  regained  his  feet, 
and  appeared  but  slightly  wounded.  Astonishment  as  much  as 
aught  else  seemed  to  hold  him  to  the  spot.  He  was  shouting 
and  swearing,  calling  for  help,  and  uttering  threats  of  ven 
geance. 

I  could  have  slain  him,  and  was  half  inclined  to  the  act  ;  but 
there  was  no  time  to  stay.  I  only  thought  of  overtaking  the  fugi 
tive,  and  aiding  her  in  her  flight. 

The  alarm  was  given — the  camp  was  in  commotion — fifty 
savages  were  starting  upon  the  chase. 

As  we  ran,  my  eyes  fell  upon  a  horse— a  white  horse.  It  was 
the  steed.  A  man  was  leading  him  by  a  lazo.  He  was  taking 
him  from  the  fires  towards  the  grounds  occupied  by  the  mustangs. 
He  was  going  to  picket  him  upon  the  grass. 

Horse  and  man  were  directly  in  front  of  us,  as  we  ran — in 
front  of  the  fugitive.  She  was  making  towards  them.  I  divined 
her  intention. 

Jn  a  few  seconds  she  was  up  to  the  horse,  and  had  seized  the 
rope.  The  Indian  struggled  and  tried  to  take  it  away  from 
her  ;  the  red  blade  gleamed  in  his  eyes,  and  he  gave  back. 


THE   CRISIS. 

He  still  clung  to  the  rope,  but  in  an  instant  it  was  cut  from 
his  hands,  and  quick  as  thought  the  heroic  woman  leaped  upon 
the  back  of  the  steed,  and  was  seen  galloping  away. 

The  Indian  was  one  of  the  horse-guards,  and  was  therefore 
armed.  He  carried  bow  and  quiver.  Before  the  horse  had 
galloped  beyond  reach,  he  had  bent  his  bow  and  sent  an  arrow 
from  the  string.  I  heard  the  "  wheep"  of  the  shaft,  and  fancied 
I  heard  it  strike,  but  the  steed  kept  on ! 

I  had  plucked  up  one  of  the  long  spears  as  I  ran  across  tne 
camp.  Before  the  Indian  could  adjust  another  arrow  to  the 
string,  I  had  pinned  him  to  the  grass. 

I  drew  back  the  spear,  and  keeping  the  white  horse  in  view, 
ran  on. 

I  was  soon  in  the  midst  of  the  mustangs.  Many  of  them  had 
already  stampeded,  and  were  galloping  to  and  fro  over  the 
ground.  The  guards  were  dismayed,  and  as  yet  knew  not  the 
cause  of  the  alarm.  The  steed,  with  his  rider,  had  passed  safely 
through  their  line. 

I  was  following  on  foot.  Fifty  savages  were  after  me,  I 
could  hear  their  shouts,  I  could  hear  them  cry  **  Wakono,"  but 
I  was  soon  far  in  the  advance  of  all.  The  horse-guards  as  I 
passed  them  were  shouting  "  Wakono  !"  As  soon  as  I  had 
cleared  the  horse-drove,  I  again  perceived  the  steed;  but  he 
was  now  some  distance  off.  To  my  joy  he  was  going  in  the 
right  direction — straight  for  the  yuccas  upon  the  hill ;  my  met 
would  see  and  intercept  him. 

I  ran  along  the  stream  with  all  speed.  I  reached  the  broken 
bank,  and  without  stopping  rushed  into  the  gulley,  for  my 
horse. 

What  was  my  astonishment  to  find  that  he  was  gone  !  my 
noble  steed  gone,  and  in  his  place  the  spotted  mustang  of  the 
Indian  !  I  looked  up  and  down  the  channel.  I  looked  along 
its  banks.  Moro  was  not  in  sight. 

I  was  puzzled,  perplexed,  furious.  I  knew  no  explanation  of 
the  mystery,  I  could  think  of  none.  Who  could  have  done  it 


4:82  THE    WAR-TRAIL. 

Rube  must  have  done  it ;  but  why  ?  In  rny  hot  haste  I  could 
find  no  reason  for  this  singular  action. 

I  had  no  time  to  reflect — not  a  moment.  I  drew  the  animal 
from  the  water,  and  leaping  upon  his  back,  rode  out  of  the 
channel. 

As  I  regained  the  level  of  the  plain,  I  saw  mounted  men — a 
crowd  of  them  coming — from  the  camp.  They  were  the  savages 
in  pursuit.  One  was  far  ahead  of  the  rest,  and  before  I  could 
^urn  my  horse  to  flee  he  was  close  up  to  me. 

In  the  moonlight  I  easily  recognized  him — it  was  Hissoo-rozo, 
me  renegade. 

"  Slave  I"  shouted  he,  speaking  in  the  Comanche  tongue,  and 
with  furious  emphasis,  "  it  is  you  who  have  planned  this.  Sqnaw  ! 
coward !  you  shall  die.  The  white  captive  is  mine — mine 
Wakono  !  and  you" 

He  did  not  finish  the  sentence.  I  still  carried  the  Comanche 
spear.  My  six  months'  service  in  a  lance  regiment  now  stood 
me  in  good  stead — the  mustang  behaved  handsomely,  and  car 
ried  me  full  tilt  upon  my  foe. 

In  another  instant  the  renegade  and  his  horse  were  part 
ed,  the  former  lay  levelled  upon  the  grass,  transfixed  with  the 
long  spear,  while  the  latter  was  galloping  riderless  over  the 
plain ! 

At  this  crisis  I  perceived  the  crowd  con.ing  up,  and  close  to 
the  spot.  There  were  twenty  or  more,  and  I  saw  that  I  should 
soon  be  surrounded. 

A  happy  idea  came  opportunely  to  my  relief.  All  along  I 
perceived  that  I  was  mistaken  for  Wakono.  The  Indian  in  the 
camp  had  cried  "  Wakono."  The  horse-guard  shouted  "  Wa 
kono"  as  I  passed ;  the  pursuers  were  calling  "  Wakono"  as 
they  rode  up ;  the  renegade  had  fallen  with  the  name  upon  his 
lips — the  spotted  horse,  the  robe  of  Jaguar  skins,  the  plumed 
head-dress,  the  red  hand,  the  white  cross,  all  proclaimed  me 
Wakono. 

I  urged  my  horse  forward,  and  reined  up  in  front  of  the  pur 


THE   LAST   GALLOP.  483 

suers.  T  raised  ray  arm,  and  shook  it  in  menace  before  their 
faces.  At  the  same  instant  I  cried  out  in  a  loud  voice  : 

"  I  am  Wakono  !  Death  to  him  who  follows  !"  I  spoke  in 
Oomanche.  I  was  not  so  sure  of  the  correctness  of  my  words, 
cither  of  the  orthography  or  syntax,  but  I  had  the  gratification 
to  perceive  that  I  was  understood.  Perhaps  my  gestures  helped 
the  savages  to  comprehend  me — the  meaning  of  them  was  not 
to  be  mistaken. 

From  whatever  cause,  the  pursuers  made  no  further  advance, 
but  one  and  all,  drawing1  in  their  horses,  halted  upon  the 

vot.          ^wrotl  ut*» 

I  stayed  not  for  further  parley,  but  wheeling  quickly  around, 
galloped  off  as  fast  as  the  mustang  could  carry  me. 


CHAPTER  C. 

THSLAST      GALLOP. 

ON  facing  towards  the  hill,  I  perceived  the  steed  still  not 
so  distant.  His  white  body  gleaming  under  the  clear  moon 
light,  could  have  been  easily  distinguished  at  a  far  greater 
distance. 

I  had  expected  to  see  him  much  further  away ;  but  after  all, 
the  tilt  of  the  lances,  and  the  menace  delivered  to  the  pursuing 
horsemen,  had  scarce  occupied  a  score  of  seconds,  and  he  could 
not  in  the  time  have  gone  out  of  sight. 

He  was  still  running  between  myself  and  the  foot  of  the  hill, 
apparently  keeping  along  the  bank  of  the  stream. 

I  put  the  Indian  horse  to  his  full  speed.  The  point  of  my 
knife  served  for  whip  and  spur.  I  was  no  longer  encumbered 
with  the  spear.  It  had  been  left  in  the  body  of  Hissoo-rozo. 

I  kept  my  eyes  fixed  upon  the  steed,  but  he  was  fast  closing 


4:84  THE    WAR-TEAIL. 

into  tlie  timber  that  shielded  the  base  of  the  hill.  He  was  near- 
ipg  the  bend  where  I  had  taken  the  water,  and  would  soon  be 
hidden  from  my  view. 

All  at  once  I  saw  him  behind  the  bushes,  swerve  and  strike  to 
the  left  across  the  open  plain.  To  my  surprise  I  saw  this,  for  I 
had  conjectured  that  his  rider  was  aiming  for  the  cover  offered 
by  the  thicket. 

Without  waiting  to  think  of  an  explanation,  I  headed  the 
mustang  into  the  diagonal  line,  and  galloped  forward. 

I  was  in  hopes  of  getting  nearer  by  the  advantage  thus  given 
rae,  but  I  was  ill-satisfied  with  the  creeping  pace  of  the  Indian 
Jhorse — so  unlike  the  long  free  stretch  of  my  noble  Moro. 
Where  was  he  ?  Why  was  I  not  bestriding  him  ? 

The  white  steed  soon  shot  clear  of  the  hill,  and  was  running 
upon  the  plain  that  stretched  beyond  it.  I  saw  that  I  was  not 
gaining  up<  i  him;  on  the  contrary,  he  was  every  moment 
widening  the  distance  between  us.  Where  was  Moro  ?  WThy 
had  he  been  taken  away  f 

At  that  instant  I  perceived  a  horseman  making  along  the  foot 
of  the  hill,  as  if  to  intercept  me.  He  was  dashing  furiously 
through  the  thicket  that  skirted  the  base  of  the  acclivity.  I 
could  hear  the  bushes  rattling  against  the  flanks  of  his  horse. 
He  was  evidently  making  all  the  haste  in  his  power,  at  the  same 
time  aiming  to  keep  concealed  from  the  view  of  any  one  upon 
the  plain. 

I  recognized  my  horse,  and  upon  his  back  the  thin,  lank  form 
of  the  earless  trapper. 

We  met  the  moment  after  at  the  point  where  the  thicket 
ended.  Without  a  word  passing  between  us,  both  simultaneous 
ly  flung  ourselves  to  the  ground,  exchanged  horses,  and  remount 
ed.  Thank  Heaven  !  Moro  was  at  last  between  my  knees. 

"Now,  young  fellur!"  cried  the  trapper,  as  I  parted  from 
him,  "  gallip  like  durnation,  an'  kitch  up  wi'  her ! — we'll  soon 
be  arter  on  yur  trail — away  then — away !" 

1  needed  no  prompting  from  Rube.      His  speech  was  not 


THE    LAST    GALLOP.  485 

finished  before  I  had  sprung  my  horse  forward,  and  was  going 
like  the  wind. 

It  was  only  then  that  I  could  comprehend  why  the  horses  had 
been  changed — a  ruse — it  was  an  afterthought  of  the  cunning 
trappers !  Had  I  mounted  my .  own  conspicuous  steed  by  the 
camp,  the  Indians  would  in  all  probability  have  suspected  some 
thing,  and  continued  the  pursuit.  It  was  the  spotted  mustang 
that  had  enabled  me  to  carry  out  the  counterfeit ! 

I  had  now  beneath  me  a  horse  I  could  depend  upon ;  and 
with  renewed  vigor  I  bent  myself  to  the  chase.  For  the  third 
time  the  black  and  white  stallions  were  to  make  trial  of  their 
speed — for  the  third  time  was  it  to  be  a  struggle  between  these 
noble  creatures.  Would  the  struggle  be  hard  and  long  ?  Would 
Moro  again  be  defeated  ?  Such  were  my  thoughts  as  I  swept 
onward  in  the  pursuit. 

I  rode  in  silence.  I  scarce  drew  breath,  so  keen  were  my 
apprehensions  about  the  result.  A  long  start  had  the  prairie- 
horse  ;  my  delay  had  thrown  me  far  behind  him — nearly  a  mile. 
But  for  the  friendly  light,  I  should  have  lost  sight  of  him 
altogether ;  but  the  plain  was  open,  the  moon  shining  brightly, 
and  the  snow-white  form,  like  a  meteor,  beckoned  me  onward. 

I  had  not  galloped  far  before  perceiving  that  I  rapidly  gained 
upon  the  steed.  Surely  he  was  not  running  at  his  fleetest  ? 
Surely  he  was  going  more  slowly  than  was  his  wont  ? 

Oh,  could  his  rider  but  know  who  was  coming  after  !  Could 
she  but  hear  me !  I  would  have  called,  but  the  distance  was 
still  too  great — she  could  not  have  heard  even  my  shouts — how 
could  she  distinguish  my  voice  ? 

I  galloped  on  in  silence.  I  was  gaining — constantly  and 
rapidly  gaining.  Surely  I  was  drawing  nearer,  or  were  my  eyes 
playing  false  under  the  light  of  the  moon  ? 

I  fancied  that  the  steed  was  running  heavily — -slowly  and 
heavily — as  if  he  was  laboring  in  the  race.  I  fancied — no,  it 
was  no  fancy — I  was  sure  of  it !  Beyond  a  doubt,  he  was  not 
at  his  swiftest  speed  ! 


4:86  THE    WAK-TRAIL. 

"What  could  it  mean  ?     Was  he  broken  by  fatigue  ? 

Still  nearer  and  nearer  I  came,  until  scarce  three  hundred 
yards  appeared  between  us.  I  fancied  that  my  shouts  might  be 

heard,  that  my  voice 1  called  aloud — I  called  the  name  of 

my  betrothed,  coupling  it  with  my  own ;  but  no  answer  came 
back — no  sign  of 'recognition  to  cheer  me. 

The  ground  that  now  lay  between  us  favored  a  race-course 
speed ;  and  I  was  about  putting  my  horse  to  his  full  stretch, 
when,  to  my  astonishment,  I  saw  the  steed  stagger  forward,  and 
fall  headlong  to  the  earth  ! 

It  did  not  check  my  career,  and  in  a  few  seconds  more 
I  was  upon  the  spot,  and  halting  over  horse  and  rider,  still 
prostrate,  I  flung  myself  from  the  saddle  and  drew  nearer.  Iso- 
lina  had  now  disengaged  herself,  and  risen  to  her  feet.  With 
her  right  hand  clasping  the  red  knife,  she  stood  confronting 
me. 

"  Savage !  approach  me  not !"  she  cried,  in  the  Comanche 
tongue,  and  with  a  gesture  that  told  me  her  determination. 

"  Isolina,  I  am  not — it  is" 

"  Henri." 

No  words  interrupted  that  wild  embrace.  No  sound  could  bo 
heard  save  that  made  by  our  hearts,  as  they  throbbed  closely 
together.  ****** 

Silently  I  stood  upon  the  plain,  with  my  betrothed  in  my 
arms.  Moro  was  by  our  side,  proudly  curving  his  neck  and 
chafing  the  steel  between  his  foaming  lips.  At  our  feet  lay  the 
prairie-horse,  with  the  barb  in  his  heart  and  the  feathered  shaft 
pointing  from  his  side.  His  eyes  were  fixed  and  glassy.  Blood 
still  ran  from  his  spread  nostrils,  but  his  beautiful  limbs  were 
motionless  in  death ! 

Dark  horsemen  were  seen  approaching  the  spot.  We  did  not 
attempt  to  flee  from  them.  I  recognized  my  followers. 

We  looked  back  over  the  plain.  There  were  no  signs  of  pur 
suit,  but  for  all  that  we  did  not  tarry  there.  We  knew  not  how 
soon  the  Indians  might  be  after  us.  The  friends  of  Hissoo  rozc 


THE  LAST  GALLOP.  487 

might  start  forth  upon  the  trail  of  Wakono  !  It  was  near  day 
break  when  we  halted  to  rest,  and  then  only  after  the  prairie  had 
been  fired  behind  us. 

We  found  shelter  in  a  pretty  grove  of  acacias,  and  a  grassy 
turf  on  which  to  repose.  My  wearied  followers  soon  fell  asleep. 

I  slept  not.  I  watched  over  the  slumbers  of  my  betrothed. 
Her  beautiful  head  rested  upon  my  knees — her  soft,  damask 
cheek  was  pillowed  upon  the  robe  of  jaguar  skins,  and  my 
eyes  rested  upon  it ;  the  thick  tresses  had  fallen  aside,  and  I 
saw 

The  matador,  too,  had  been  merciful,  or  had  gold  bribed  him 
from  his  cruel  intent  ?  No  matter  which,  he  had  failed  in  the 
fiendish  duty.  There,  in  full  entirety,  were  those  delicate  organs 
perfect — complete.  I  saw  but  the  trifling  scar,  where  the  gold- 
circlet  had  been  rudely  plucked — the  source  of  that  red  hemor 
rhage  that  had  been  seen  by  Cyprio  ! 

I  was  too  happy  to  sleep.  *  *  *  It  was  our  last  night 
upon  the  prairies.  Before  the  setting  of  another  sun,  we 
had  crossed  the  Rio  Grande,  and  arrived  in  the  camp  of  our 
army.  Under  the  broad,  protecting  wings  of  the  American 
eagle,  my  betrothed  could  repose  in  safety  until  that  blissful 
hour  when *  *  • 


*88  THp;   WAR-TRAIT.. 


CHAPTER  CL 

CONCLUSION. 

OP  the  Comanches  we  never  heard  more.  The  story  of  one 
only  was  afterwards  told — a  fearful  tale.  Ill-fated  Wakono ! 
A  horrid  end  was  his. 

An  oft-told  tale  by  the  prairie  camp-fire,  is  that  of  the  skele 
ton  of  an  Indian  warrior,  found  clasping  the  trunk  of  a  tree ! 
Wakono  had  horribly  perished. 

We  had  no  design  of  giving  him  to  such  a  fate.  Without 
thought  had  we  acted,  and  though  he  may  have  deserved  death, 
we  had  not  designed  for  him  such  terrible  retribution.  Perhaps 
I  was  the  only  one  who  had  any  remorseful  feeling — but  the 
remembrance  of  that  scalp-bedecked  shield — the  scenes  in  that 
Cyprian  grove — those  weeping  captives,  wedded  to  a  woeful 
lot — the  remembrance  of  these  cruel  realities  ever  more  rose 
before  my  mind,  stifling  the  remorse.  I  should  otherwise  have 
felt  for  the  doom  of  the  ill-starred  savage. 

His  death,  though  terrible  in  kind,  was  merited  by  his  deeds, 
and  was,  perhaps,  as  just  as  punishments  usually  are. 

Dramatic  unity  demands  the  death  of  Ijurra,  and  by  the  hand 
of  Hollingsworth.  Truth  enables  me  to  satisfy  the  demand. 

On  my  return  to  the  camp,  I  learned  that  the  act  was  already 
consummated — the  brother's  blood  had  been  avenged ! 

It  was  a  tragic  tale,  and  would  take  many  chapters  in  the 
telling.  I  may  not  give  them  here.  Let  a  few  particulars 
suffice 

Frcin  that  dread  night  Hollingsworth  had  found  a  willing 


CONCLUSION.  489 

fraud  to  aid  him  in  his  purpose  of  retribution — one  who  yearned 
for  vengeance,  keenly  as  himself.  Wheatley  was  the  man. 

The  two  with  a  chosen  party  had  thrown  themselves  on  the 
trail  of  the  guerrilla;  and,  with  Hedro  as  their  guide,  had 
followed  it  far  within  the  hostile  lines.  Like  sleuth  hounds  had 
they  followed  it  night  and  day  until  they  succeeded  in  tracking 
the  guerrilleros  to  their  lair. 

It  was  a  desperate  conflict — hand  to  hand,  and  knife  to  knife ; 
but  the  rangers  at  length  triumphed.  Most  of  the  guerrilleros 
were  slain,  and  the  band  nearly  annihilated.  Ijurra  fell  by 
Hollingsworth's  own  hand;  while  the  death  of  the  red  ruffian, 
El  Zorro,  by  the  bowie  knife  of  the  Texan  Lieutenant  was  an 
appropriate  punishment  for  the  cruelty  inflicted  upon  Conchita. 

The  revenge  of  both  was  complete — though  their  sorrow  was 
still  borne  within  their  hearts. 

The  expedition  of  the  two  Lieutenants  was  productive  of 
other  fruits.  In  the  lair  of  the  guerrilla  they  found  many 
prisoners — Yankees  and  Ayankiedos,  and  among  others  that 
rare  diplomatist,  Don  Hainan  de  Vargas.  Of  course  the  old 
gentleman  was  relieved  from  his  involuntary  service  with  the 
Guerrilleros,  and  arrived  at  the  head-quarters  of  the  American 
Army,  just  in  time  to  welcome  his  fair  daughter  and  future  son- 
in-law  from  their  ante-hymeneal  "  tour  upon  the  prairies." 


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_  .. 


Send  Cash  Orders  to  B.  M.  DE  WITT,  13  Frankfort  Street,  N.  Y. 


